


(Too Weird To Live) Too Rare To Die

by AmalgamWriter



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adorable proposal and marriage, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Dad Steve, Pack Mom Stiles, Possible M!Preg, Puppy Isaac, Redeemed Jackson, Spark!Stiles, Stiles builds a new pack, abused!Stiles, abusive!sheriff, empath!Stiles, full shift wolves, sort of, unbreakable bonds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-20 02:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9471293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmalgamWriter/pseuds/AmalgamWriter
Summary: When one family pushes you down, another will be there to help you rise back up.Genim Coulson, nephew and adopted son of Phil and Clint Coulson, is done with Beacon Hills. He's decided to break free from his abusive sperm donor and live the life he wants to, with his true family in New York City.Join Genim, Steve, the Avengers, and his family as they go on adventures, save the world, and fall in love. Recovery takes time but having real support makes it go so much faster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This first chapter is just kind of an intro of sorts. I am still working on the new part of Coulson, Coulson, and Coulson but this just would not leave me alone! Let me know what you think. ;-)

Sheriff Johnathan Stilinski wasn’t a _bad_ parent. At least, not in  his mind. In his life, he had seen and done many horrific things. Was it so wrong that he did not want that for his son? Was it so wrong that he wished for his only child to be _normal_?

There was one small problem with his “simple” desire, though. Stiles Stilinski would always be Genim Coulson at heart. And everyone knows that there is no such thing as a “normal” Coulson.

Stiles could still remember when his Great Aunt Peggy Carter-Coulson taught him to throw a punch, when his mother’s twin brother – Phil Coulson, taught him to walk in absolute silence and use everyday objects to his advantage, or the first time his mother – Claudia Coulson-Stilinski, wrapped his young fingers around her favorite Glock and taught him how to _focus_.

Jonatan ‘John’ Stilinski refused to take part in his sons ‘training’. The Sheriff would _often_ fight with his wife due to it, but he had never won. In John’s mind, the ‘problem’ only grew worse as the years went on, with Clint Barton soon joining the fold, first as Phil’s partner and then, later on, as his husband. The former circus performer taught Stiles both archery and gymnastics as well as blending in. After Clint, came Natalia ‘the Black Widow’ Romanova, as she was then known. The Black Widow herself, taught Stiles _mostly_ hand-to-hand, along with the occasional bout of ballet or other dances. Because _that_ was oh-so-fucking- sane!

Piling on to the Sheriff’s already _vast_ anger and resentment, Claudia insisted that they send Stiles off alone with her twin, to New York City usually, for three _long_ weeks every summer as well as a week during the winter, at the least. Stiles always came back a little different, always bragging about whatever _crazy_ thing that he had seen or done.

Johnathan absolutely _abhorred_ it.

And then…Claudia got sick. They did everything that they could, trying to save her, but she was just too far along to survive. His precious Claudie…

All John had left of her was their freak of a son!

It was no great shock when John dove head first, straight into a bottle of his favorite whiskey. No, the shock actually came about a week later – at the reading of her will.

Apparently, his wife did not feel she could **trust him** with _their_ son. She had arranged for temporary custody of  Genim to be given to Phil and Clint Coulson, along with a few other little provisos.

The Sheriff just dove deeper into the bottle, up until he nearly lost his job. Hell, he nearly lost his damn life!

For three years, it continued. Until he had finally wised up and sobered up. When he did, John made a choice. He was getting _his_ Stiles back, and they would be a nice, _normal_ family.

No matter what the _freak _ wanted.


	2. Crazy = Genius Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned there is talk of suicide and self harm in Parts I & II of these chapters. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment and let me know what you think!

 

When people think about abuse, they often think only about physical abuse. They paint themselves an image of a faceless child covered in broken bones, bruised flesh, and bleeding wounds that all the world can see.

In some ways, _they_ are the ‘lucky’ ones.

The victims of verbal abuse, of psychological torture, of painful neglect…they have nothing to show for it. They cannot shed their clothes to lay bare their scar mottled flesh that laid witness to all the pain and silent screams of “Something is not right here! Please! We need help.”

Instead, the survivors are trapped with the voices that never go away. They are always there to fill the awkward silences, to keep you company on the sleepless nights, to suffocate any hope you may feel in a moment of happiness. Always there, reminding you that you will _never_ be good enough.

** Never! **

Their proof is oft nothing more than a bit of he said, she said and the victim is rarely ever the winner. Often times, threats of what the abuser would do if the victim ever stepped forward was enough to prevent it from ever escalating that far though. Even if the abuser had never been physical in the past.

The threat was enough.

 

                                          

 

Stiles Stilinski – or Genim Coulson as he preferred – did not _truly_ realize it yet, but he had spent every moment of the last two years, since he had been dragged back to the hellhole that was Beacon Hills (against his will mind you), being both verbally and emotionally abused. By the very man who had _sworn a sacred oath_ , to protect everyone. Most of all, his own son.

Stiles was truly at the end of his rope! The young genius honestly was unsure of just how much more he would be able to survive before he simply just gave up and found a nice, painless wat to…to just die.

Thankfully, as the final bell rang out his junior year, Stiles knew that he would _not_ be returning to that house or to the man who had contributed his sperm to Stiles conception (because that man was _no father_ to him!). His bag was already packed, waiting for him within his locker, and the keys to his beloved Roscoe? Well, Isaac really _was_ his favorite pup. He knew that his precious Jeep would be in good hands. Until Tony was able to have it retrieved later in the week, at least.

Ah! Speak of the pup, and appear the pup shall. Like magic, Isaac all but melted out of the crowd of rowdy teens, all ready for their summer vacations to begin. Once freed from the hoard, Isaac happily attached himself to Stiles side. Quite like a limpet but _much_ cuter. Those suckers had _nothing_ on the Lahey curls.

“Afternoon pup,” the teen murmured happily. He casually reached up to ruffle those aforementioned curls with a smile. The action served dual purposes; scent marking and offering a loving touch to someone who grew up without it. Plus, Stiles loved how Isaac’s emotions thrummed so positively from something so simple.

“Afternoon mom,” Isaac greeted him in return, only teasing in the most loving sense. Stiles did offer the maternal kind of love and care which Breanna Lahey refused to give her children. “What has you in such a good mood today?”

And they had just reached the landmine covered conversation that Stiles’ had dreaded to venture in to. You see, he had not actually _told_ anyone that he was only an hour or so from getting on a plane to New York. While still planning on _visiting_ , Beacon Hills was not his home, nor would it ever be again.

** Never! **

Scott would honestly be the most likely to know. _If_ he ever cared to pull his head out from between Allison’s legs that was, even for just  five fucking _minutes_! As it was, Stiles had been disappearing off to New York for as long as Scott had known him and Scott hardly ever noticed his absence beyond no longer having a friend at his beck and call. Why would this time be different? It wasn’t as if Stiles would count the two-faced bastard as a friend anymore.

Not speaking for nearly five months after letting Stiles nearly die numerous times? It would do that to _any_ relationship.

Isaac didn’t know only because Genim did not wish to _ever_ upset his pup. As it currently stood, the teen was working on a hare brained scheme involving his Uncle Tony’s kickass lawyers to get Isaac to New York within the week, if not that same day; for _at least_ the summer (if not permanently). His pup was a legally emancipated adult now, though, so that would help a _lot_.

As for the rest of the pack not knowing? Well, why would they?

Erica and Boyd hated him! Why would he tell them jack shit?

Lydia? Well, she was too busy pretending none of them – bar Danny and Allison – did not even _exist_ to know a _goddess be damned thing_ about him or his private life. Not that she cared a damn bit about him before either.

Derek hadn’t known, mostly because the Alpha was busy doing Alphaesque things, whatever those were… He hadn’t actually been in town all that much in the recent months, too busy fostering relations with other packs and other such things.

As for the Undead Hale? Well…no one told Peter a damn thing if they could help it. The man had a tendency to use the information to his advantage sadly.

This all added up to one of the biggest reasons that Genim **loved** New York City so fucking much! There was no singular, insular pack that ruled the territory. Just a bunch of littler packs/covens/ect, a _lot_ of omegas or other singular souls, and a **huge** supernatural underground that few ‘pure’ humans had any clue about. Most large cities were like that though. Los Angeles, Chicago, San Francisco, and Seattle – just to name a few.

In the end, as strange as it was, only Danny actually knew was happening. The only reason even he knew was because Stiles was about to move to the same city as his best friend. He’d wanted to give the goalie the chance to make up a care package of sorts, should he so wish. Danny had been deeply grateful and flying AirStark had _many_ advantages. Like the lake of size constraints or costs (as long as it was smaller than Roscoe, at least…obviously). He would be meeting the hyperactive teen outside with it fairly soon actually.

When the pair reached their destination of Stiles locker, Isaac decided to lean against Greenburg’s locker, for some insane reason. It was something one did not do without the impressive immune system of a werewolf or the undead immune system of a vampire. Thankfully, everyone knew Greenburg would be headed to see Coach long before he would come to his locker so they wouldn’t been disturbed. (Stiles still thought they were fucking, or at least Greenburg wanted them to be.)

Of course, getting Stiles’ locker to open up for him was a bigger fight than he had ever cared to deal with. The fucking thing had hated him from _day one_. It was also why he tended to keep his more important things in Isaac’s locker – quicker access that way.

“It’s really complicated pup but,” Stiles took a deep breath before finishing, “I _really_ want you to come with me. You are my best friend, my little pup. I don’t think I could stand to leave you behind. But first…” He grinned one of his maniacal grins, “There are two people waiting outside for me that I would love for you to meet. They are two of the most important people in the entire universe, to me.”

Isaac both looked and felt nervous at that. Perhaps a bit scared, as well. Still, Isaac trusted Stiles and acquiesced without hesitation, seeming to sense just _how important_ this was to the normally spastic teen.

“Thank you Issy! Can you carry this please?” Stiles asked with an infectious grin, holding out a fairly nondescript black duffle bag that contained the heavier of his irreplaceable items, like his photo album of him and his mother, along with the rest of the people he actually care about.

Once it was within Isaac’s grasp, Stiles pulled out a dark purple bag with a quiver of silver arrows which declared, in a beautiful lavender thread, ‘Archers Make You Quiver For It!’ It was an absolute favorite of his.

The bag made Isaac laugh – a bright, happy sound which made Stiles grin. “Careful that the jealous asshole doesn’t see that! He will think you suddenly have designs on his sociopath’s panties.”

Stiles snorted at his words, slamming his locker closed now that it was empty. “Oh pah-lease! I have _absolutely no desire_ to sample his sloppy seconds. Even if I wasn’t a firm five on the Kinsey scale and in a happy committed relationship with a sexy older man, Lydia was the _only_ person with female parts that I have _ever_ found myself physically attracted to!”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the absolute absurdity of it all, because honestly? He could _so_ see McCall doing something so truly moronic like that. “Nah, this was a gift from my Uncle Clint, from when I mastered archery. He’s actually the world’s greatest archer. _Well_ , marksman period, actually, but…the man has a serious thing for bows. One would say it’s almost a fetish.”

Isaac was full on grinning now. His blonde curls, paired with the happy look on his face, made the wolf seem so much younger than he had recently, and much less beaten down than he normally was. In fact, it was hard for Stiles to think of a time over the years where Isaac didn’t look at least a bit frightened.

“Screw your firm five!  I am firmly a six on the Kinsey scale. I wouldn’t run away screaming from ‘lady parts’ but I might grab a cross and shout ‘be gone cruel devil!’ until they stopped and put it away. I _need_ a man with a nice dick; even if it’s made of silicon.” Isaac snorted a bit. “Stiles, I have _seen you_ with a crossbow, remember? You nearly shot McCall with it.” Not that Isaac sounded the least bit upset about that fact. Though, maybe a wee bit disappointed that Stiles had missed…

Stiles wrapped his arm around Isaac’s waist, looking every inch the couple the couple have once been (before they had become more like mother and son), as the taller teen’s arm settled around his shoulder. Their touches weren’t stiff or uncomfortable. Instead, they were both comforting and companionable. As it _should be._

“You know, that is why I love you so much pup. You actually know the difference between someone’s sex and their gender. You know genetics do not dictate a **_goddess be damned thing_**!” He tightened his grip enough to give his best friend a loving hug, even planting a platonic kiss on his cheek.

Hearing Isaac’s rare, carefree laugh was a beautiful thing and yet, Stiles could not enjoy it. Not when _Situational Awareness_ had been drilled into his head by damn near every family member – sans his genetic donor of course – from the moment he could understand both complex words and ideas. Even today, they still drilled it in. Until he could be blindfolded and _still_ know where he was and navigate a crowded room without apprehension or fear.

Sure, they were currently in a busy hallway, but most eyes slid right off the pair, not caring if they were to stop and make out then and there. No, _someone_ was currently doing some pretty heavy duty staring. Or glaring, as the case may be. It didn’t take long at all to find the culprit. Subtle never was a concept which Scott McCall could actually grasp.

Stiles simply rolled his eyes in Scott’s general direction while continuing on with Isaac. He had many better things to do than deal with someone else’s petty _issues_. Luckily, he would never have to deal with the pathetic asshole again, nor would Isaac if he had his way. McCall had made it _very clear_ that he was _not_ a part of the Hale pack, after all. The only reason Stiles could think of that he would come back would be to help the pack, so he would have no reason to deal with the bastard.

The duo pushed the doors of Beacon Hills High open unto an interesting tableau. Parked directly in front of the schools steps was easily the most **_gorgeous_** little red corvette that he’d  ever seen, in his admittedly young life. And this was coming from someone who not only got to _see_ but also _play with_ Tony Stark’s  extensive, unique car collection. No one ever said the man was **sane** , letting someone who had **just** gotten his license have the keys to his one-of-a-fucking-kind Tesla?! _Pure insanity_.

Leaning against the ‘vette was a fairly unassuming looking man wearing a dark black Dior suit worth upwards of $5,000. (The damn thing was made from a new kind of bulletproof material called BulletBlock, and was worth every penny! Stiles’ book bag and tablet case were both made with the material. He ran with wolves sure, but he flew with superheroes more often than that! And supervillains were a part of the deal, sadly enough.) The truth of the matter was vastly different though. The slightly balding man was actually a master assassin and spy, able to kill using nothing more than the deep purple tie currently wrapped around his neck to accent the suit, without ever breaking a sweat or losing his cool. He also had on some black shades that allowed him to keep an eye on everyone in the area without looking like a paranoid nutcase.

Standing next to him stood a shorter man with shaggy blond hair who was wearing his own dark purple shades and a shit eating grin to go with it. The complete lack of sleeves on his black and purple tee showed off his powerful arms, which could definitely be used as weapons of the most lethal kind. Especially if someone was truly stupid enough to arm the man with any type of ranged weapon but particularly with any type of bow.

Seeing both his uncles and Lola ready to steal him away was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds after months of not seeing it, his soul slowly dying. Now, he could **finally** breathe again. Stiles could _not_ find it in himself to care who was watching. He quite literally _ran_ into the waiting arms of the two men who were more like his fathers than Sheriff Johnathan Stilinski **_ever_** was or would be.

Phil and Clint Coulson held onto their nephew turned son tightly, sandwiched between them. Both kept up a back and forth stream of comforting words whilst Stiles Stilinski slowly melted away and Genim Coulson came to the surface once again and forever more.

“It’s okay, Koliber.”

“Hush now hummingbird.”

“We have you.”

“You are safe.”

“We will always protect you.”

“You know we will.”

“Our precious hummingbird.”

“Darling little son.”

“We love you.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Our sweet son!”

“Our perfect little one!”

“I think it’s time, don’t you Genim?”

“Pepper already has the paperwork ready.”

“We all want you to come home, Genim.”

“Forever.”

Stiles – Genim – listened to the words, soaking them in. It took a few moments for them to really register with the teen. “You mean…I could _legally_ be Genim Coulson? Stiles Stilinski could finally stay here while I finally fly free?” His eyes were watering with unshed tears at the thought alone.

His Papa Phil took his face lovingly within his hands, bright blue eyes meeting the teens own liquid caramel. “Yes, Koliber. That is exactly what we mean.” Phil pressed a sweet kiss to his forehead, showing him a touch of love.

A watery grin broke bright across his tear stained cheeks, letting them finally fall. “There is someone I wish for you to finally meet, and then I think we should go to the privacy of the Hale manor to speak about a few things…” Genim took a few steps back until he was once again at Isaac’s side, wrapping an arm back around the taller male’s lithe waist. “Isaac – I would like for you to meet my soon-to-be-legal fathers, Phil and Clint, or better known as Papa and Taddy. They raised me exclusively for three years after my mother’s passing. She was Phil’s dizygotic twin.”

Resting his head on Isaac’s shoulder, Gen continued the introduction. “Papa, Tad – this is Isaac Lahey, my sweet pup, who does not know it but has kept me sane this last year. Without him…well, I have had a **_lot_** of bad days.” It was obvious was he wasn’t saying. Without the other teen, there would have been a good chance that Genim would have simply…stepped in front of a speeding truck.

“I am so very glad to finally meet you! Thank you for letting Genim take care of you. Especially after that _bullshit_ with McCall. That little **fucker** is **so** lucky that I am too busy to fucking deal with him right now!” Clint told Isaac, with a completely pleasant smile, yet without a lie in sight (or sound). If Clint weren’t currently busy taking care of Genim, McCall would be _lucky_ to be  dead for all the pain that he had put the young genius through.

Isaac gathered Genim close in a full on hug. Normally, it was the other way around, with Gen giving Sac comfort after a bad day or horrific nightmare, a flashback or just because the motherly figure could. “Genim is my best friend. I love him. He’s like…” Isaac blushed bright red. “He is like my mother and my brother both, but infinitely better than either.”

Now, Gen was the one who was blushing. Not because of being called a mother but because he never did handle compliments well. Jesus! “Alright! Everyone get your asses into Lola! We have places to go, people to see…And! I know _for a fact_ that there are a few nosy wolves listening in because they don’t know how to keep their furry wolves to themselves.”

Phil sighed and shook his head. Gen could tell he was annoyed by them listening in. “I am _so glad_ you don’t have to deal with these  idiots anymore!”

Before they could get in, Danny came rushing over carrying a fairly large box. The Hawaiian still toted it around with ease. “Sorry! I didn’t want to interrupt. Thank you _so much_ for taking this to Jackson, man. I know you two have your issues but I still appreciate it.”

Taddy Clint happily took the box from the dimpled Hawaiian whilst Genim let out a bit of a soft laugh, shaking his head with a smile. “Nah, Daddy. Jacks and I spent some of our last summer break working our issues out. He’s changed, quite a bit and in the best ways. New York has been very humbling for him. Then again, you cannot help but be humbled around the likes of metas like Peter and Barry. I think Stevie – Captain America – was what really changed him though. I’m not sure what was said but I do know they spoke for a few hours and both came out with tear stained cheeks.” The young genius shrugged, unwilling to say any more on the subject.

For a moment, Danny looked so terribly sad. Genim could understand though. It was that moment you realized that you don’t really know your best friend anymore. Having the entire country between you can make it even harder.

Genim gave him a gentle smile that offered him comfort…hopefully. “Go to college in New York. We both know you can graduate early, just like I could. This does not have to be the end Danny. He misses you more than he will _ever_ admit. Hell, I’m pretty sure that he’s at least a bit in love with you, but he is simply far too scared that you do not and will not see him like that to admit it.” The teen shrugged again, giving Danny’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Thanks, Stiles,” Danny muttered, looking shaken to the core at his words.

“Genim,” the genius offered nearly automatically.

“Huh?”

Gen gave a small chuckle, his tiger iron brown eyes sparkling as he informed him, “My name. It’s not Stiles. It’s Genim – Genim Coulson. And once the adoption papers are finalized, it will be fully legal. If you do come to New York, I will be in Stark – well no, _Avengers_ Tower now. Come visit. There will always be a guest room waiting for you, I promise.”

Before Danny could actually fully recover from the fact that dorky Stiles Stilinski was no longer really dorky _and_ no longer Stiles Stilinski **but also living with _the_ Tony Stark**, Genim jumped into Lola. Phil went again and gunned it, since everyone was in with him. He wanted Gen _far_ from all of his tormentors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh! I have a question I **NEED** answered! 
> 
> Jackson/Danny  
> Jackson/Isaac  
>  OR  
> Jackson/Danny/Isaac?!


	3. Crazy = Genius Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Back again with another chapter already! Only because I had most of it already typed up. College makes it hard to type up sometimes. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are lovely and give me a reason to ignore my school work and do this instead.

The drive out to the Hale Manor, which was actually mostly rebuilt, consisted of explaining to Isaac just how Phil knew where to hell to go and Genim giggling quite a bit once Isaac finally realized just whom his Taddy was. Him geeking out about his best friend being related to the Avengers was seriously adorable.

Gen wasn’t surprised to see Derek on the porch, waiting for them when they pulled up. Peter standing next to him wasn’t _entirely_ expected but  man! It was a damn good thing his new fathers were… _mostly…_ unarmed.

To be honest, the pair would have to be completely naked in an empty room to be truly unarmed, and even then…there would probably be some debate. What with the several martial arts masteries they both held.

Genim had to sigh. This would either be fairly easy, or…more likely, an _unmitigated disaster_. He had seriously _high odds_ on the latter.

“Derek. Uncle Creeper – Lord of the Undead. I would like the both of you to meet Phil and Clint Coulson. Currently, they are legally my uncles but by next week, they will by my adoptive fathers,” he grinned. “Papa, Taddy, these are Derek and Peter Hale. One is my Alpha. The other belongs in the Fridge next to the other homicidal sociopaths. But! He’s family so we keep him around. Kinda like a particularly dangerous pet! Or Loki…”

Derek started growling, kaleidoscope eyes bleeding Alpha red. “You exposed the pack to these strangers, Stiles? I knew I never should have trusted you!”

The moment Derek started to growl threateningly at Genim, the Alpha had two hand cannons calmly leveled at him, both weapons loaded with ‘Hell Fire’ rounds, which were tipped with explosive shells and filled with a mixture of white oak, holy water, garlic, wolfsbane, silver shavings, crushed rock salt, and ground clove leaves. The rounds could injure or kill just about _any_ supernatural baddies out there!

The action had the genius tilting back his head and closing his eyes as he prayed to the goddesses, begging them for the strength needed to deal with such idiots. “Please do not anger the overprotective assassin and super spy by threatening their son. They tend to not hesitate when killing if they believe I am in danger. It would _hardly_ be the first time either.” Genim muttered the last bit as he scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair.

Genim glanced at his fathers before he continued, not wanting to share the wrong thing. When he only felt encouragement from them, he spoke again. “I did not tell them any secret. SHIELD has known of werewolves _for decades_. Hell! There’re _at least_ two that actually work for SHIELD that are werewolves! Agent Devin Buckley is a beta from New York’s omega population and Agent Dai McCleskey is a beta of the McCleskey pack from the Salt Lake area of Utah! All **_I_** did was inform the two men who have raised me since the death of my mother that I had a new Alpha so that they could perform a background check and be the overprotective fathers they are.”

Peter paled drastically as Genim spoke, shifting forward to put a hand on the shoulder of his nephew and Alpha. The resurrected wolf looked as if he wanted to be literally **_anywhere_** but standing there within the SHIELD Agent’s sights. “SHIELD you say?”

With three sharp nods from Phil, Clint, and Genim, Peter swallowed roughly before saying, “Derek, if you value our lives, you _will **stop**_ growling! **RIGHT NOW**. They will have  no problem killing us, _and_ get away with it. SHIELD answers to no. They are  completely neutral in the supernatural world; often they step in between the Hunters and their prey. Though, their supernatural department is pretty damn small when compared to the rest of the organization. Derek, seriously. I really do _not_ have it in me to pull another Lazarus right now!”

“Wow. I have never felt you so genuinely panicked before, Peter. Such a strange emotion from a man like you.” Genim frowned for a moment, lips losing the smirk they had gained. “Oh and don’t…don’t call me Stiles anymore. My name is Genim or Gen for short. Soon, it will be Genim Coulson, so just use that okay? Now, can we please move this inside? We have quite a lot to talk about and we do have a flight to take in a couple hours. Uncle Tony may be _richer than the Goddess_ but that does not mean we have forever.”

Derek shifted back into his more human self, so his father’s put their weapons away. That was _so much better_.  He  really was not in the mood for bullshit bloodshed, dead bodies, and an Alphaless pack. Not today, anyways.

Once everyone was back to ‘normal’ (Gods and Goddesses, how that word always made him flinch – even mentally), Genim walked over to his Alpha and hugged the suddenly shocked man tightly. “I trust you too, Sourwolf.”

Sadly, Derek was a bit stiff in his return hug, but still, Genim could feel the flood of appreciation coming from his Alpha at the words. It was nice. The teen _so rarely_ felt any form of appreciation aimed at himself these days, at least when he was in Beacon Hills. In New York, many people appreciated him.

Leading the heard inside, Gen couldn’t help but smile. A feeling of contentedness overpowered his nervousness and his worries. It built and built until he didn’t even realize that he couldn’t contain it any longer.

“Genim?” his papa Phil called forward from the back where he was walking beside Isaac.

“Tak (yes – Polish), papa?”

“You are projecting, maly (little one – Polish). What has you feeling so content, moja Koliber (my hummingbird – Polish)?”

While the question was innocent enough, and should be easy to answer, it sent a huge flair of panic like a wild fire through Genim. It’d been a long time since he’d had a panic attack but those words were all it took to send him back to those nightmares.

“Please papa! Please! I’m sorry!” Genim started to sob, sounding impossibly young as he hit the ground, gasping for breath as the edges of his vision turned blurry and quickly darkened. Genim kept up his litany of peas throughout.

Without the ability to get an actual breath _in_ , oxygen starvation and deprivation won out, causing Genim to quickly lose consciousness.

 

                                            

 

Coming back into the conscious world, Gen groaned deeply. Waking up always came with a _hell_ of a headache after all.

There was the familiar weight of Isaac curled up next to him yet the young genius had no memory of how they got there. Not to mention feeling his taddy Clint’s calloused fingers running through the soft hair he had finally begun to grow back out. Still, he refused to open his eyes.

“Wha’ ‘appened?” Genim croaked out weakly. Around him, the genius could hear movement as well as indistinct talking. The sheer amount of worry pressing in from all sides was nearly suffocating. It did allow him to know _who_ was in the room though.

“We were hoping that you could tell us, my little hummingbird,” came papa Phil’s always soothing voice. Even if he had that same worry held just under the surface.

Gen took a deep breath, deciding to take stock. He didn’t feel physically injured so…”D-Did I have a p-p-panic attack?” Calgon, just kill him now!

“Shh, it’s okay. I only wish I knew what had upset you enough to trigger one.”

The surface that Genim was laid out on shifted when papa sat next to him, somehow avoiding crowding out both Clint, who Gen was practically laying on, and Isaac, who was curled into his side, to offer his loving support. The teen forced himself to open his eyes, revealing that he was currently laid out upon the bed within what was considered ‘his’ room of the manor.

Across from the bed, the two remaining Hale’s sat side-by-side upon the window’s loveseat – a place where Genim quite enjoyed reading whatever new book he’d gotten his hands on. It was quite obvious that Genim was a reader from the **several** large, full bookshelves covering his silver and green Slytherin-inspired walls.

The pair watched the small family with the same worry (even Peter!) but under that was the anguish and desire to have back what they had lost in the Fire.

“What…” Genim cleared his throat uneasily before trying again. “What were we talking about before it happened?”

Gen gently ran his fingers through the soft blond curls that covered Isaac’s head while Phil replied, “I’d asked what had you so content because you were projecting enough for even Clint and I in the rear to feel it.”

Genim’s breath sped up a bit at the reminder of it. No on felt angry with him though. Maybe it was time to come clean with his fathers, his family.

He closed his eyes once again, remembering some of his mother’s last words to him, drawing strength from them. “ _Never forget, my sweet firefly, it is not a weakness to ask for help. Better is he who asks for help and lives to fight another day than the one who stays silent and dies before dawns new light. Always remember, my darling, there are people in this world who would do anything for you, who would die for you, but more importantly, those who would **kill** for you. Never fear telling them you need them._”

“I…I had a panic attack because Sheriff Stilinski does not allow for me to be anything other than normal. Being a high level Empath as well as a Spark is pretty far from ‘normal’,” Genim choked out, shaking a bit. His eyes refused to leave his lap as he spoke. “He’s not one for physical violence, but he knows _just how sensitive_ Empaths are. Some days, I would think that I would rather take a beating to his words, his emotions, his…his **_rules_**.”

Now that the words had started, Genim couldn’t stop. It was like someone had finally unlocked his bindings, freeing him for the first time in four years. He told them _all_ of the rules he lived under, including the ones that put himself and his friends in danger by preventing him from using his skills to fight against the supernatural threats which had overtaken Beacon Hills in recent times. How he had not gotten a decent night’s sleep since he’d left New York because the Sheriff would do nearly _daily_ surprise weapons checks in his room, and the teen struggled to sleep without any tangible way to defend himself. How he was not allowed to excel in any sport – not even track or cross country. The fact that the Sheriff had not looked at him with anything close to love or affection for _years_ did not help anything either.

Gen even confessed that sometimes he would harm himself physically just to handle the emotional trauma that bastard had put him through.

The words would not stop. Worse yet, neither would the tears. Thankfully, his sweet, darling puppy had no issue letting him cling in what may have been one of the top five most painful experiences of his admittedly _short_ life. The most, if not for the fact that he had been there in the hospital – alone – when his mother had finally passed on.

At the end, the young genius whispered, “I need help. _Real help_. A psychologist, a psychiatrist. Therapy and medications. Someone in the supernatural know. Please papa, taddy. Please.”

“Oh, Koliber,” papa muttered, kissing his temple lovingly. The super spy looked so very worried about his son. “Of course we will get you the best help possible. You know we will. I promise.” He gave Genim’s ankle a quick, gentle squeeze as he stood. “Now, I need to go make a few calls and make a few arrangements but taddy will be staying right here. As for what you asked about Isaac, after hearing all of this? I think that it would be more than helpful for you, kochanie (darling – Polish). Jestes kochany (you are loved – Polish).”

“Nie pozoslawawiaja zadnych dowodow, jesli popelnienia mordeslaw (leave no evidence, if you commit murder - Polish). Tez cie kocham, papa (I love you as well, papa - Polish),” Genim told him, his Polish and Polish accenting flawless. (Unbeknownst to nearly all, English was not actually his first language. He’d spoken Polish for months before he started to learn English.)  The young genius even managed to find something resembling a smile for them.

The silence left in Phil’s wake lasted only until Lola’s soft purr could no longer be heard. The opening, amazingly enough, was not about Isaac or the Sherriff. There was only one other _really ‘interesting’_ topic, of course. That it was **Peter** who decided to go poking at it came as a shock…to _no one_.

“So! Spastic, sarcastic little Stiles is an empath, huh?” Peter asked with an eyebrow raised as if it was speaking as well. Too bad his eyebrows lacked the same game Derek’s had.

Genim rolled his eyes. “I told you, it’s Genim! And you’re one to talk. You are a walking, talking zombie of a lie detector who can **_literally sniff out_** emotions. What is your point?” Genim’s sarcasm game was always strong. No matter how shitty he may be feeling.

Peter scowled back, growling low in his throat before he remembered who was in the room as well. “You don’t think we should have _been told_ you can  sense our emotions.”

The teen laughed (and no one could blame him if it sounded a _tidge_ hysterical at that point) at the zombiewolf. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? Oh, just _be fucking honest_, Peter Joseph Hale! For fucks **sake**!” he snapped, shocking all but his tad. Clint had seen him act like that plenty of times. “ _You_ are upset because a werewolf’s senses are a lot easier to fool, if you know _how_. Both as lie detectors and empaths. But me? A **_true_** empath? There is **no** fooling me. I feel it all.” His voice dropped as he continued, “You _panic_ , your _fear_ , you _shame_. I feel it **all**.” He suddenly smirked. “Let me tell you Peter, there is a reason I cannot stand to be around you and it has nothing to do with what you did. Your jealousy and your envy are going to  consume you. It will destroy what is left of your soul.”

Gen shifted around until he was face to face with those clear blue eyes of his darling pup, turning his back on the sociopath in the room. “Come to the Big Apple with me. My floor in Avengers Tower has _more than_ enough room. Jackson will be there as well, but Jacks has changed a lot recently. He’s more like the little boy he was before he found out he was adopted now. Plus, Petey and Barry are awesome…when they are not being sickeningly cute together…Or when they’re busy being seduced by Wade, who is also awesome, I have to admit. Tony is insane but it makes life more – fun.” He didn’t really phrase it as a request but it wasn’t a command or demand either.

Isaac sat there, eyes darting between Gen, his parental-like figure, and Derek, his Alpha. Gen could see the internal struggle going on behind those brilliant blue eyes. “Whatever you wish to say is okay, Issy. You are safe here – I will _always protect you_ , maly (little one – Polish). From **_anyone_** that I need to.”

The young wolf nodded. He burrowed into the _technically_ younger teen’s neck, taking comfort from the familiar scent found there. “You won’t be coming back, will you? At the end of summer, I mean.”

“No puppy, I will not be. I’m finally going home to stay. There is not much for me here anymore, if there ever was. Just you and a pack that hates both itself and me.”

Isaac shuddered while letting out a small whimper. “I can’t take Erica anymore. She…she’s cruel and like my…like my birth mother was before she died. Boyd just…just does whatever she wants because they’re fucking. This town is nothing but…but bad memories anymore. Without you, it’s not worth it mummy. Please don’t leave me behind.” Isaac’s voice broke by the end, sounding like the child he was obviously feeling.           

Genim gave Isaac a tight squeeze. “I’ve got you, pup. Go pack up what you want for the week, okay? The rest I’ll have someone come and collect for you later. We do need to catch a flight…at some point.”

The feeling of betrayal coming off of a certain _Alpha_ was seriously _pissing him **off**_. “Derek, your room. **Now** ,” Gen bit out with a glare that would cow even Nick Fury, himself. Derek’s room was both soundproof and just across the hall, so it was perfect for the upcoming confrontation.

The teen rolled his eyes at the gun his tad managed to suddenly make appear, gently but forcefully pressing it into his hand with a ‘you- _know_ -you-do-not-go- _anywhere_ -unarmed’ kind of look. Which…point. The genius had to admit though, he instantly felt more centered with the custom made Glock 19 style handgun in his possession.

The door slammed closed behind Genim once they both crossed the threshold into the Alpha’s bedroom. The young genius’ glare intensified, if that was possible

“What the **_fuck_** is your problem, man? Is it that I didn’t tell you that I’m a fucking empath? Because **_fuck_**! I believe the panic attack speaks _volumes_ about why I didn’t! You _do not_ get to feel betrayed about that!” Genim hissed out, wanting to use his Spark to kick his ass.

Derek’s sudden flash of extreme anger nearly made Genim decide to just say _‘fuck it’_ and resort to plethoric anger. Damn prick! “My problem? My problem is that half my pack is moving to New York without a care in the world!”

Genim actually scoffed at that. “Idiota! Kurwa idiota! (Idiot! Fucking idiot! – Polish) Your _problem_ is thinking that Isaac is _yours_. When was the last time you held him? Ruffled his hair? Had a simple bit of _praise_ for him?” He paused for a moment, allowing Derek’s silence to prove his point, before he continued his tirade. “That’s what I thought, Derek. Deal with the mess that is this cesspool. Get your betas here under control before you really do lose your entire pack. Issy, Jacks, and I will be _fine_.”

Genim shook his head as he headed out. He got as far as the door before he had to stop, turning just enough to be able to see the stunned looking Alpha once again. “The sad thing is, we never said we were leaving the pack…just the town. Sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it? Goodbye, Sourwolf. Keep in touch, yeah? Don’t go dying whilst I’m off being a badass.”

A few minutes later, everyone was piled into Lola and ready to go. Genim gave the Hale’s a little wave as Lola pulled away with the four leaving for New York. As he did, he couldn’t help but wonder…would he ever see his Alpha in person again?

Once upon a time, Genim had dreamed of a future with Derek, but that was before he realized it wasn’t where he belonged.

No, he had already met the man of his dreams. That mad had feather down soft blond hair, clear ocean blue eyes, and towered about six inches over Gen but always used his height to his advantage – in the best and sweetest of ways.

It wasn’t too long before they had reached the local airport, managing to get onto the private jet waiting for them without any problems. Thankfully.

Twenty minutes later and they were in the air.

**_New York City, here we come!_ **


	4. Tell The World I'm Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genim is finally back in New York City and we learn just how Genim Coulson and Steve Rogers became a couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell. I am so sorry it took me so long to get this typed up. Like I believe I've told you guys before, I write out long hand in a notebook before I type it up. However, with doing 16 credit hours of schoolwork this semester, I never seem to have time anymore. Especially considering one of my classes is Medical Transcription.

When the doors to the penthouse common area of the Avengers Tower opened, a few bars of Hedwig’s Theme playing to announce them, Genim instantly knew that something was wrong.

First off, quite literally _everyone_ was there. Including people only nominally involved with the Avengers, such as Pepper, Darcy, and…was that _Loki_?!

Second of all, the only one _really_ feeling truly positive emotions, was Steve! Which yeah, that wasn’t fucking  weird or anything…

Even Darcy, the bubbliest girl he knew, was feeling…Oh. That was pity, under the sadness, anger, and worry, wasn’t it?

Guess he knew what was wrong then. He was going to have to murder his Papa Phil, for stealing away his sanctuary. For now, Gen would have to settle for glaring at the man in question and hiss out, “Really? It was bad enough **_Peter_** saw my breakdown! Now, my safe place, my _home_ , is full of people who **pity** me!”

Pity was an emotion he did _not _ deal well with. Pity was an emotion he associated with his mother’s funeral, one of the most painful moments of his life.

Claudia Coulson Stilinski had been a very beloved woman. Due to that, over one hundred people came to her funeral to say goodbye and to pay their respects. Nearly all of them _pitied_ the little eight year old boy standing there in a little bespoke suit, crying his amber eyes out, and clutching the teddy bear his mummy gave him tightly. The pity that day had been a _horribly_ overwhelming emotion, driving him to his first ever full blown panic attack. The Sheriff had felt _such disgust_ for him that day.

Genim grabbed Isaac’s hand, clutching it like a lifeline. A grounding force. His pup felt no pity for him. No disgust at all, like all those secretly did year ago (Though it’d been aimed more towards the Sheriff back then) either. No, he was simply worried for his maternal figure and projecting the familial love that he felt, as well. That was something Isaac was quite good at, along with taking pain. Projecting _good_ emotions.

Isaac was the only one outside the ‘family’ and select members of SHIELD who knew about his secret. Not even _McCall_ knew, and that? That spoke  volumes, now didn’t it?

“Shit,” Clint swore under his breath, moving to his side and rubbing his back gently. The archer focused on projecting an air of calm, attempting to ward off his son’s panic attack, much like he used to.

Phil glowered viciously at the gathered group for a short moment before he decided to turn his attention back to his son, switching to ‘concerned father’ from his more frequent ‘intimidating badass.’ “Tak mi przykro, moj Koliber (I am so sorry, my hummingbird). Byli nie wiedziec (They were not to know). I called Steve and Pepper for a bit of help. I forgot, though, that anything which Pepper knows, Tony will know as well. And Tony could not keep his mouth shut to save his life. Just tell me know Koliber, and they will leave, without a goddess be damned _word_ , or I **_will_** be testing out my new taser on them. Repeatedly.”

Genim gave him a weak smile that lasted barely a heartbeat. “It’s okay, da. I know you were upset earlier and it clouded over your thinking,” he told him in a pained whisper. Gen let his liquid caramel eyes close. It didn’t take long after that for the pity to start to _consume_ him. Even small doses were difficult on his sense memory. “Darcy,” he gasped out, “Thor. Fuck! Pepper. Jane…” He whimpered out in a pain that wasn’t actually physical.

The teen distantly heard his papa Phil say, “Darcy, Jane, Pepper, Thor, please come along quietly with me. We have _much_ to discuss,” but Gen could not focus wholly on it.

Suddenly, there was a prickly ball of warmth being deposited upon his shoulder and a familiar ‘flavor’ of fond came in gentle waves from the man in front of him. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know it was his favorite super soldier standing in front of him.

To Genim, every emotion has a…baseline, if you will. Something that is basic and never changing, no matter the person. Layered over the baseline is an idiomatic layer that belongs solely to each individual. Like…everyone shares that same type of warmth when it comes to love but Steve’s love for him? _That_ had the additional feeling of tight hugs and tender kisses, but Isaac’s love for him felt like that first bite into one of his mum’s fresh outta the oven Mint Chocolate Chip Cookies.

One strange thing about Steve was that the soldier had never felt any kind of familial love towards him, unlike everyone else.

And then, Genim had turned 17. He’d always spent his birthdays in New York, taking the week off from school to spend the time with family and his past year was no different. Other than being the _best_ birthday he’d ever experienced!

 

 

Seventeen years old! One more year and he would be a legal adult! He could test out of his senior year early, legally more to the tower, and finally decide if he wished to actually join the rest of the family and join the SHIELD Academy or take that genius brain of his straight to MIT. The crux of it though, was that, at SHIELD at least, Genim could use **_all_** of his talents; _without fear_.

The party thrown at the tower made him feel lighter than he had in the last year. There was no supernatural stress, no ignoring the onslaught of negative emotions from the Sheriff, McCall, and gods…even Lydia. (Even when not directed at him, they still made him feel _ill_.)

Not only were all the Avengers present, so were many of the people he’d gotten to know at SHIELD over the last few years, like FitzSimmons from R&D, who were barely older than he was; Melinda May, who had been one of his mother’s best friends before she settled down; Maria Hill, who felt a lot of happy things despite her outward mask and was _often_ laughing on the inside; Skye No-Last-Name, who was one of papa Phil’s strays that was a brilliant hacker but was in need of a guiding hand.

Even Nick Fury, who Genim took great pleasure in making laugh on the inside whilst looking like he was having an apoplexy, showed up. Peter Parker and Barry Allen, the world’s second cutest couple (Because seriously, no one could top how _cute_ Tony and Loki could be! Even if Genim occasionally wants to kill Loki.) joined them as well. When the pair weren’t busy being Spiderman and the Flash, they were just two awesome guys that Genim went to school with during the few years he’d lived in New York full time. He had, thankfully, never lost touch with them, or a few others of their friends.

The most shocking attendant of the party was _absolutely_ Jackson Whittemore! Yeah, they’d had a _long_ talk over the few weeks he’d spent in New York earlier in the year, and whilst the empath secret wasn’t revealed then, the rest of Gen’s heritage _did_ come out. Along with the fact that the Whittemore’s had finally explained _all_ the details of his adoption. Including the caesarian section performed on his birth mother’s already dead body.

The information had really changed the blond. What he was not expecting was the bonds of friendship it had forged, outside of the usual pack bonds. It was a _good_ thing though.

At the end of the night, Genim thanked the few people still around them for coming before heading to his own floor. He was feeling _so damn euphoric_ from all the good feelings aimed his way that he was a bit surprised that he wasn’t floating from how good it felt.

            The teen had only just closed the door behind him, stripping off his tee as he headed to his bedroom, planning on just slipping into some sleep pants before heading for some good dreams. Instead, he ended up doing an about face, not bothering to put his top back on, one that said, “Spank the Birthday Boy.” Peter had made him wear it and boy did his ass hurt! But…not in bad way.

Gen opened the door with his scarred chest on display, surprised to see a sheepish super soldier in front of him. The sudden spike of _lust_ and **_want_** was even more surprising in a way. While he never treated Steve as anything other than a person - leaving Captain America on the battlefield - he did know the man was born in the 20s (but biologically they would be celebrating his twenty-first birthday this summer) and homosexuality? It was definitely not looked upon kindly in those days. Considering it was a _literal_ death sentence.

Hell, Genim was pretty sure there was no such thing as Don’t-Ask-Don’t-Tell back then. It was more **_Don’t-Ask-Don’t-Die!_**

Still! This was Steve, for whom finding a bright smile was as easy as breathing. “Hey Steve, what’s up?”

“Hello, Gem. I was hoping I could come in. Give you your present and talk, if you aren’t too tired?” Steve asked, shier than he had ever been around Genim.

The young empath did not even need to think about it. He just stepped back, letting his door open wider to let him in. “You know that you are _always_ welcome here. So, what didja get me! Must be something _awesome_ that you did not wish to give it to me at the party upstairs.”

Steve waited, not replying until they were both seated on the dark red and _so freaking comfortable_ couch together. Their bodies angled towards each other without conscious thought. It was like it was the most natural thing in the world, where they were meant to sit and talk.

Genim gave the soldier a gentle smile, just waiting. That seemed to bolster his courage enough to get him speaking. “I didn’t give you your gift upstairs for a few reasons, Gem. The big one being that it ties into what I wish to speak to you about in a way, but also for the safety of your gift as well.”

The second part of Steve’s explanation, more so than the first, pinged Gen’s ‘oh fuck’ radar, because _safety_ means there is **_danger_**.

Despite the apprehension that he felt, Genim still took the box when offered. It wasn’t until he was actually holding the box that he realized it wasn’t wrapped but actually beautifully, and skillfully, painted. Gen’s fingers gently ran over the scene painted on top. To most people, it would simply look like just another generic painting of Coney Island.

The truth meant _so much more_. To both of them. The pair had went to Coney Island last summer, only days before Genim had to go back to California, and all the pain it brought with it.

Genim loved Coney Island but the young man had not returned to it since his mother’s death.  The same was also true for Steve with Bucky. Together, Steve and Genim honored those no longer with them and had one of the best days of their lives, and the box showed it. (Of course, Bucky didn’t _stay_ dead but it still counted.) Genim and his mother playing a carnival game on one side, Steve and Bucky on the Cyclone on another, and even Steve and Genim dancing together at the end of the boardwalk at night on top. Other scenes covered the remaining three sides.

The young man was pulled back from his thoughts and admiration of the box further to see what other memories made it because it moved.

_The._

_Box._

**_MOVED!_ **

Genim’s eyes went wide. “You love me too much to kill me, right?! This is not, like, a bomb rattling around on its own, right?!” His voice squeaked as he rushed the words out.

Steve chuckled, feeling both happy and amused. That prick! Gen should kick his ass tomorrow. “Nope! But – it is alive. So you might wish to be careful. He is too little to get too far though. Also, he’s more of a cuddler than a runner. At least, so far he has been.”

“Alive?” Genim whispered, repeating the word with awe as his cinnamon eyes widened. Steve had gotten him a pet?

Taking in a deep breath, Gen opened the box and promptly cooed. Inside was a black coffee mug with a white spider web covering it that said, “My code never bugs. It simply develops random, unexpected features,” in red. That wasn’t what made him coo though.

No, it was the _mother flufflin’ **hedgehog**_ curled up _inside_ of the cup that made him coo!

“Wha—how?! It’s illegal in New York to own a hedgehog,” Genim asked, very confused. His long, thin index finger reached into the box to start stroking the adorable little ball gently.

Steve hummed softly, pulling an envelope out with a sly grin. “Being Captain America does have a few advantages. The Governor owed me after I saved his little girl last month during that Doom attack. You are now the _only_ legal owner of a hedgehog in the state of New York. I know how much you’ve always wanted one.”

Genim blushed at that. A soft smile came over his features. The entire family had been watching _The Wind in the Willows_ when he commented on how cute hedgehogs were but that it was currently illegal in both New York and California to own one. Of _course_ Steven Rogers would remember a simple, one off remark like that. And not only remember, but also **_do something_** about it.

“You will always just be Steve to me. So, what’s his name then?” The blush darkened when he admitted that. Not many could look at the super soldier and see only the man he’d always been and not the one people wanted him to be.

As distractionary tactics go, it definitely held a _high_ advantage because Steve responded with, “Well that is for you to decide, isn’t it? Seeing how he’s your baby now and all. Even if he has to live with me while you’re back in California. Sorry, he doesn’t owe me anything. –Yet.”

Genim snorted, biting his lip as he said, “No. That’s…that’s fine. I…ah…I plan on moving here permanently, soon as I am legally able to. It would be safer for him here.” The birthday boy gazed down the adorable creature’s fuzzy underbelly, trying to think of the perfect name for him. After a few long moments, he settled on what he decided would be the perfect one. “Percival…Percival Quill Coulson-Rogers. He’s half yours after all. His other daddy when I can’t be here.”

Steve grinned back at that. His beautiful blue eyes showed so much. They practically twinkled. “Such a strong, regal name. Named after one of Arthur’s legendary Knights of the Round Table? From the original _Conte du Graal_ by Chrétien de Troyes?” As he finished, the soldier blushed, seemingly because of the knowledge he held.

Genim could admit easily that he was impressed by Steve’s knowledge. Not many would have gotten the reference but, then again, the man knew him quite well and knew he enjoyed books like _Conte du Graal_. For a bit of light reading, as Hermione Granger would say. Sadly, Percival was replaced in later stories by Galahad. “Yup,” Gen replied, popping the p brightly. “Did you read it in the original French or some translation of it?”

“The original French, back in World War Two. I actually learned French in about a week because I wanted to read works like de Troyes as well as _Le Petit Prince_ which I heard is still quite well known today, as The Little Prince, so badly. Advantage to being enhanced, it makes becoming a polyglot even easier. Any other names you thought about? I can’t help but be curious.”

Genim chuckled, “Oh a few. Amoux, which is French for eagle wolf, or Cuan, which is Irish for little wolf. Apropos, no? Since his daddy runs with wolves and his papa is an Irish immigrant who fights for the American people. Oft symbolized by an eagle.”

Steve couldn’t seem to stop himself from rolling his eyes but his smile never faltered. If anything, it grew. “Long as daddy dearest is _safe_ about it.” His voice was only semi-stern.

Gen gave Steve his best ‘bitch please’ face, working in some of the strong eyebrow game he has learned from Derek, champion of the eyebrow game himself. “Of the two of us, who (a) was regularly getting his ass kicked long before he reached seventeen and (b) jumped on a grenade while thinking the damn thing was going to blow? And! Was likely to die! And not even from the _actual fighting_.” He mumbled, “Stubborn jackass,” under his breath, just for good measure.

Steve shook his head at Genim with a soft smile that made him look so much younger and a snort. “Okay! I secede the point.” The soldier laughed a bit, making warmth spread through Genim’s stomach.

“Well, I am a certified genius with an IQ of 226,” Gen winked. “And, as a genius, I think you are running a bit away from your original points of coming down here. Which, really, is not like you, lalka (Doll – Polish).” 

A swelling of determination built up around Steve, which, honestly? The soldier was the _only_ being that Genim had ever met who could do that. Could pull an emotion around him like a cloak, that is. He had _no idea_ if it was a serum think or just a Steve Rogers thing either, much to his continued chagrin.

“Gen…I like you,” Steve told him for his opener.

In response, Gen simply smiled, nodded, and calmly said, “I know,” whilst freaking _the fuck out_ on the inside. Some empath he was! All of the signs were all _right there_ too! Just…he’d been unable to see the forest for the _goddess be damned trees_.

A little frown furrowed between Steve’s brows at the simple response. It made him look freaking **adorable**! “No,” Steve responded, “I mean that I _like_ you. I want to go steady with you, even if that ain’t what they call it these days.” And just _how_ could Steve get away with saying something like that without sounding _twelve_?!

Genim arched an eyebrow at the cute super soldier. “I believe you are forgetting something about me, zotnierz (soldier – Polish). Aren’t you?”

“I…am?”

Genim poked Steve’s cheek playfully. “Not 100% human? Empathic spark, capable of magic’s that drive Tony crazy? Ringing a bell or two in there, cutie?”

Steve could not stop the blush which overtook his cheeks at the reminder that Genim could sense everything from his happiness to his horniness and _all _ that lay in the middle. “It’s easy to forget, gra amhain (loved one – Irish/Gaelic), since you never really use your gifts to your advantage,” Steve reminded him.

Genim shrugged magnanimously. He continued to pet the newly christened Percival as they spoke, letting the touches be a grounding force. “Yes. And no. I am _always_ using my gifts to my advantage. I am simply not like Thor or Tony though. I do not make a splash whilst using them. I am much closer to my uncles or Loki in temperament. A perfect chameleon for my ability to be easily overlooked.” The genius sighed softly. “I use it to know when you need a hug to pull you out of the past; to know when Tony needs someone to ramble to, to stave off a panic attack; when Bruce needs a soothing voice or a calming presence; when Pepper needs a damn _day off_. And I just…quietly make that happen.” Admitting that made him blush deeply, chewing on his abused lip.

“You are quite literally the **_soul_** of the Avengers. No wonder we only feel whole when you are here!” Those sweet cerulean blue eyes were wide with awe and appreciation. After a moment, he cleared his throat before returning to the previous topic. “Anyways, I like you Genim and I have since the first day I met you. Despite knowing _exactly_ who I am, you only ever treated me to Steve. As a friend. You are a witty, sarcastic little asshole so never let it be said that I do not have a type. But you weren’t even 16 at the time. Whether I am in my 20s or my 90s, it doesn’t matter. It’s still illegal. So I settled for just waiting, being your friend. Now though? –You’re 17 and I would love to spend the next year just…courting you, I suppose. Dating you without _completely_ defiling you.”

“Is Steven Rogers asking to be my boyfriend?” Genim aimed for teasing but ended up swallowing thickly, looking both shy and uncertain suddenly. It was _not_ what he expected. Not like this. In a way, he was scared. So very scared it may all be just another painful joke, even if Steve was nothing like those from Beacon Hills.

Look, Genim _knew_ he was beyond smart, alright? He spoke several languages, could do complex math in his head, and he saw patterns that few ever would. He could test out of high school at any time (since freshman year at least, actually) if not for the Sheriff’s rules. And, well, not wanting to leave his precious puppy behind, of course. He was also physically fit, proficient with weapons – both close quarter and ranged weaponry – and knew more than one unarmed discipline. When he needed to, Genim could move fast and silent or run dead out, to rival the supernatural even. Not to speak of his spark or empathic abilities.

However, for all his strengths, Genim had _far more_ failings. In his mind, at least. Gen took after Clint in his mouthy, sarcastic manner. His human was difficult for many to get, often seen as dark and even occasionally morbid. The ADHD he had suffered since he was a small child was hardly helped by the medications he’d been put on. Like most geniuses, Gen struggled with traditional human interactions. Friends were a rare thing to make and an even rarer thing to _keep_. While he was fit, his lithe body was a battleground of scars. Some even added by his own hand.

Truly, when it came down to his own flaws, he could go on and on.

Instead, Genim focused on the beautiful man in front of him. Considered to be the _‘perfect’_ man by nearly everyone but Gen knew the truth. Steve’s body may be the height of perfection but the man had flaws, just like anyone else. The man _hated_ mornings even though he got up early anyways, tended to get hissy if he was denied his coffee, was addicted to midnight hot chocolate and mindless action flicks, tended to swear in every language he could possibly think of, and had a short temper most days. Steve still had nightmares about the war, about Bucky falling to what they thought was his death, and especially the subsequent passive suicide by plane that he had attempted after losing the only family he felt he still had left. By that point, he really did not care about his own survival and now it haunted him.

That’s why Genim loved Steve, because he _wasn’t_ perfect. Because he had his own flaws and was just as messed up as Genim at the end of the day – in his own unique ways.

Shyly, but with an undercurrent of steely determination, Steve’s cerulean eyes met Genim’s liquid caramel and nodded. “Yes, I am. You are already my best friend in many ways. I talked to both Phil and Clint as well. I wanted them to know that, should you accept me, I will always respect you and your boundaries. That I would wait until it was completely legal before we crossed that last line, but that that would not stop me from kissing you, holding you, touching you, or sharing a bed platonically with you. I just want to do this right…like you deserve, A stor (my treasure – Irish).”

Genim had to swallow hard, his pupils blowing wide at the soldier’s words, tears threatening to appear. Steve truly was a sweetheart. _And_ the fact that he went to his uncles instead of John? It proved just how well the man knew him. It was enough to make it too hard to hold the tears in, a few running slowly down his cheeks. “I…I would…” he paused to take a deep breath before he could continue, “I would love nothing more than to be your sweetheart,” Gen teased, winking at him but still completely serious. Genim would always be Genim after all. There was no changing that.

The soldier snorted at him before leaning in slowly to allow Genim to pull back if he desire and gently sealed it with a fairly chaste **_powerful_** kiss.

**Fuck!**

Physical affection would _always_ be very strong for any empath, especially when significant emotions were involved. The kiss would have brought him to his knees had he been standing.

 

 

“Well hello little Lord Percival Quill Coulson-Rogers, my darling, sweet, baby hedgie,” Gen cooed at his shoulder, his eyes having yet to open. “Have you been good for your athair (father – Irish) whilst your ojciec (father – Polish) was away in Hel?”

Genim could _hear_ the grin in Steve’s voice as he replied, “Yes, of course he was. We both missed you, though. Welcome home mo chroi (my heart – Irish). You gonna let me see those beautiful caramel hues anytime soon, or are you going to keep ‘em to yourself?”

The young genius laughed a bit at his simply crazy, darling soldier who stole his heart. “Fuck, I’ve missed you too, zotnierz chtopiec (soldier boy – Polish). Depends…What do I get for doing it?”

A tender hand cradled his cheek before he was being kissed by the only man he has every truly loved for the first time in over two _long_ months. Skype and phone calls just simply _were not_ good enough for the empath who  craved the emotions that went with Steve’s soft words and ached for his tender touches.

When they pulled apart, Genim sighed happily. His eyes slowly fluttered open to take in _his_ soldier. He felt calm and centered once again, after far too long.

“There he is,” Steve murmured softly so only he could here. Gen’s cinnamon eyes took in the man who was dressed casually in worn jeans, a graphic tee with Mickey Mouse peeking out of the pocket on it, and a red hoodie he had left unzipped.

Genim rose a brow at his fashion choices. “Trying to take my place as Little Red there, soldier?” the teen teased playfully.

Steve looked confused for a moment before he looked down. He blushed a bit when he realized what he was wearing. “Oh shush you! I’ll explain later. For now, I believe we have broken Isaac. Just a little bit. Poor pup.”

“C-Captain America knows who I am?” Isaac gasped, stuttering the words out, the hand that Genim still held convulsing a bit at the news. Gen knew that Captain America was both a hero and a fear, since Isaac still struggled with authority figures and probably would for quite some time. The bite did a lot but it could not fix everything.

Genim shook his head with a gentle smile. “No, Steven Grant Rogers knows who you are. And, of course he does. I tell my soldier everything, after all.” Steve gave him the stink eye as he said that. “Okay, so maybe not _everything_ , but honestly? The only things I don’t tell him are…well…” There wasn’t really a _good_ way to say it, was there?

“The things that hurt or nearly kill you?” Steve chimed in with a raised brow of his own. “Like John or Jackson or Peter or Derek?” The sad thing was, the man wasn’t even upset about it. A little annoyed, sure, but not actually, _honestly_ upset.

“…Yeah, that. And to be fair, Jackson wasn’t ever _actually_ trying to kill  me. First Matt, and then Gerard were using him, against his will, when he was still stuck as a kanima. He is all better now, as you well know.” Genim gave him an easy smile, loving their simple banter. “Now! Do you wish to inform me as to _why_ exactly there is a  slightly psychotic demigod in the living room? Did we forgive him for turning me into a fox for a week? Because I do not remember being a part of that discussion. Not that it really bothered me in the first place or anything, he is family after all, but still.”

Oddly, it wasn’t Steve that answered him but Tony who was standing next to the demigod in question. Genim loved that Loki and Tony were such a wonderful couple. Their kids loved their other parents as well. “First, you loved your week as a fox and we _all_ know it. Second, foxes are not only cunning, swift learners, _and_ resourceful, they are also considered representative of the Trickster God, so I am fairly sure that means  you are his favorite, other than me. Fourthly…? No, thirdly! Thirdly, he is here for many reasons but the main reason is because he is a part of the ‘Abused Children Support System’ and he cares about you. Just like me and Bruce and Clint do. Even Steve had an abusive father. Nat’s entire childhood was nothing but a bloodbath! And Pep’s father may not have touched her but he abused her mother until her mother snapped. Fuck, I am pretty sure that Agent’s the only one of us who had any kind of remotely ‘normal’ childhood around here. He still spent the first, what? Six years as a Brat? We all just want you to know that you aren’t alone. Not here. Never.”

This right here? This was his **real** motherfucking family! Not a bastard who gave a simple bit of his genetic coding and slowly stopped loving him as Genim’s empathy became more and more apparent. The negative emotions from John caused the little boy to avoid him as often as humanly possible. It was the reason Claudia put the provisions that she did in her will. Not that Genim had actually known about that.

“Yeah well, he’s still an asshole, but a lovable one at least,” Genim told Tony weakly, not even caring that his voice was thick with teas that silently worked their way down his flushed cheeks. “Gods our childhoods were all just… ** _nightmares_**!” The young genius took a deep breath, letting it all go for the moment, clapping his hands together while pasting a smile on his face after a moment. “Well then! Enough sadness now. There are introductions which need to be made!”

Gen gave the suddenly nervous feeling Isaac’s hand a loving, maternal squeeze along with a smile meant to offer gentle reassurance. “It’s okay, szczenie (pup – Polish). They are really just people. Just like you and me. Maybe not 100% human but neither are we, right?” He smirked a bit as he finished speaking. Not 100% human indeed.

Genim watched as his sweet puppy pulled himself together just like Genim taught him. Oh, he was still nervous, yes. But he was simply dealing with it better now. It made Genim proud. “Thank you, mom,” Isaac whispered softly, looking like he wanted nothing more than to curl into the shorter male but did not know if he was still allowed, now that he knew all about Steve.

“Oh puppy! Come here,” Gen muttered, opening his arms for Isaac to tuck into. “I told you, I tell my soldier everything, including about us sharing a bed. He knows just what you mean to me, and he is more than fine with it.”

Steve smiled at the pair of them, nodding a bit. “He’s right, Isaac. Gem and I might be **very** possessive of each other but that will _never_ apply to you. You are precious to Genim, therefore you are precious to me as well, pup,” Steve swore to him, his face about as earnest as any of them had ever seen.

Isaac’s eyes went wide as he hesitated only for another second or so before he burrowed in. “Thank you…” the wolf paused, nerves spiking high. “…dad.”

Steve just gave him a gentle, paternal smile.

Once Isaac was burrowed in nice and comfortable, the pair shuffled closer to the group still in the living room. “Pup, here was have Tony Stark or Iron Man, Bruce ‘I’m-Not-That-Kinda-Doctor’ Banner or the Hulk, Loki Freyadottir, Natasha Romanov or Black Widow, and oh! Fashionably late as always would be Peter ‘I-actually-kind-of-hate-spiders’ Parker or Spiderman and his lovely boyfriend Barry ‘You-Ain’t-Ever-Gonna-See-Me-Comin’ Allen or Flash,” Genim introduced with a teasing smile. “My dearest, crazy family! This is my adorably sweet pup, Isaac Lahey. You treat him like you treat me, **or** I will use you as my newest guinea pig and trust me, I have a lot of new things I want to experiment with.”

“Bite me Genny! Jacks is on his way up. Thought carrying him into Avenger’s Tower would kind of give away the whole ‘We-Are- _Totally_ -Not Teenagers’ thing, ya know?” Peter told him as he pulled off his mask, letting them see him actually roll his eyes – for good measure.

Barry had a huge grin on his face as he removed his own mask. Within less than the blink of an eye, the speedster dashed from the side of his beloved Spider over to wrap Genim (and Isaac by simple correlation of the fact that the other teen was curled fairly tightly against Gen’s side). “Oh my amazing Cereal Killer, how I have missed you and your perfect sarcasm! Jackson just don’t get it and Petey freaking _tries_ but you are simply the master of it!”

“Goddess dammit B! You are smothering me and definitely freaking Isaac out. I love you too but it’s time to go back to your Spider now. We’re here to stay now, after all,” Gen teased him gently.

Genim _was_ excited to see Barry though – Barry’s excitement feeding into his own.

Even when they were younger, Genim had always been, after all, practically groomed to use his attitude to his advantage. Barry listened without even a milliseconds hesitation, gone back to where he started in just another blink.

“Sorry Isaac! I tend to get a little overexcited sometimes.” Barry blushed slightly, looking a little sheepish as he spoke, once again wrapped around his love.

The elevator dinged with Hedwig’s Theme from behind them, announcing the arrival or their final guest. “Oi! Stilinski! You didn’t start the party without me, did you?”

Gen turned his head enough to give the blonde jock a dark look. “Stiles Stilinski got left behind in Beacon Hills. Genim Coulson is the best I can give you.” The genius shrugged a bit. “And I was not informed of a party…”

Jacks snorted a bit. “As long as I get you in some way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all like it.


	5. A Love Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken me SO LONG to get this up but let me tell you, I have been insanely busy this summer with college and life. Hopefully the next chapter will be quicker but...I have college this fall as well. Love you guys! Also, not beta read so sorry for any mistakes.

Life in Avenger’s Tower returned to what passed for normal fairly quickly after Genim and Isaac moved in. Rather than staying on Genim’s old floor though, both Genim and Isaac moved onto what was formally Steve’s own expansive floor, with Jackson staying over nearly every night.

On the third day, Genim was awoken by the ringing of his phone. “What?” he snapped down the line, not even caring enough to check the Caller ID to find out just who was disturbing him. He hadn’t exactly slept much last night and was cranky because of it. He had been too busy worrying over his first appointment with Doctor Ieuan Reese later today. Dr. Reese specialized in supernatural psychiatry. One of the supernatural’s who worked for SHIELD actually recommended him.

“Stiles?” came the familiar voice of Nurse Melissa McCall – the mother of his former best friend. A voice he wasn’t actually expecting to hear. He’d figured it had been Wade, he was getting back into town that morning from a merc job over in France or Finland, somewhere with an ‘F’…since he had been unable to join in the festivities upon Gen’s return to New York. They were good friends after all, despite the fact that Wade was a wee bit crazy.

Genim frowned, sitting up. Melissa’s vocal tone made him wonder just what was happening now. “I’d prefer my legal name Genim, please. How may I help you today, Ms. McCall? Since I doubt a social call would be occurring this early in the morning.”

From behind him, he felt his wonderful lover sitting up before the super soldier wrapped his strong arms around him, tucking his face into the crook of Genim’s neck. At the same time, Isaac sleepily stumbled into the room and then promptly faceplanted onto the bed with a very wolfish whine. Gen ran his fingers happily through his pup’s curls as he waited for Mrs. McCall’s answer.

“It’s about your father. He was found dead, early this morning,” Nurse McCall informed the room since his phone had a direct line to Jarvis and he hadn’t actually wanted to physically find and answer the phone.

Isaac lifted his head up with a whine, speaking of his curiosity. It was easy to tell what the pup wanted to know so Gen gave voice to his unasked question.

“Thank you for calling. How did he die?” the young genius asked, not bothering to pretend to sound too broken up over the man’s death. He had a feeling it was not a natural death though.

Genim felt bad for Nurse McCall. He knew that she was technically innocent in all of this but she was a nurse—someone trained to notice abuse—and yet, never _once_ did she question how the Sheriff treated him. It may not seem fair to be cold towards her but quite frankly, he did not care anymore.

The older woman sounded hurt and confused at Genim’s less than friendly demeanor and complete lack of an emotional response to the news when she herself sounded as though she had broken down over it, if the thickness in her voice was anything to go by. Still, the nurse was a consummate professional. “I am sorry, but early reports are leaning towards it being a homicide. It…” Her voice broke. “It appears he was tortured repeatedly before he died. The FBI swear that they are doing all they can to solve the case. Rafael won’t rest until he knows the truth.”

That made the teen scoff and roll his eyes. “Seriously? You are joking, right? Your asshole of an ex-husband hates the sheriff _and_ myself. Do you **seriously** expect me to believe he’d do anything to try and solve the case? Either he thinks this will win you back or you are straight up lying. I honestly do not which it is, either. Thank you for calling, and please contact either Phil or Clint Coulson with further information and please, tell Agent McCall that SHIELD will be taking over the investigation. Goodbye Mrs. McCall.”

Genim didn’t feel like hearing whatever she had to say in response to that. Instead, he raised his hand, slashing it through the air to indicate to Jarvis to please cut the call.

Sighing, the young genius shook his head. He was so very _not_ _happy_ about being awoken so early in the morn’. Plus! Someone took away his chance at revenge!

“Jarvis, please inform everyone that they have exactly fifteen minutes to get their _ruddy asses_ to the communal kitchen. If they do not, I will wake them up—my way. Those that do get there on time, I will even make them breakfast,” Genim requested. He ran his fingers through Isaac’s dark blond curls one last time, wanting to calm himself down before he started to work his way out of the bed. He had on custom sleep pants with Steve’s shield with his special bat cross over in an ‘X’ over the shields. He refrained from wearing the sleep shirt that went with it to bed so he was currently bare chested. Both his lover and his puppy were essentially human furnaces after all, and Genim would rather not expire from a heat stroke in his sleep, _thank you very much!_

Now though, he snatched the thin, soft tee that had the same symbol centered on his chest and easily slipped it on in one fluid motion, his true grace starting to reveal itself as he shook away that which his sperm donor had trained him in with his abuse.

“Of course, Master Genim. I have informed all who are currently in the building, as well as sending word to those who are currently outside of these walls.” If an AI could ever sound amused at the job he had to do, Jarvis definitely would be the one to pull it off.

For Genim—as well as Steve and many others—Jarvis was more than just a mind made up of binary code-simple ones and zeros-held within a massive bank of terminals hidden in an underground bunker. To them, Jarvis was a very real, very alive person—with his own thoughts, desires, and true emotions. It didn’t matter if he started life as a mere digital entity. Over the years, Jarvis has learned, grown, and become his own person. Just like you and I did as we too grew up. As an AI though, J simply did so at an accelerated rate.

Genim was definitely one of Jarvis’s favorite humans though. Granted no one would surpass his creator, _obviously_. Genim had never once treated J as anything less than a person though. Then again, the first time he had actually met Jarvis, Gen learned that his empathy was not limited to those of flesh and blood. Because techoempathy made _perfect sense_.

Now, J was one of Gen’s closest confidants. Especially after Tony made it so not even he, _Jarvis’ creator_ , could access any of their conversations or related moments and information.

“Thanks J. Oh, and remind me to go visit the bots later. I think it would do Percy some good to get used to Circuit, so maybe I should take him down with me as well.” The teen told J so that he would not forget, mostly speaking absentmindedly as he walked towards the elevator that would take him to the communal floor.

Circuit was the first thing Genim and Tony had ever built together. The little bot was only around 6 inches tall by about 4 ½ inches at his widest base, but he had a _lot_ of spunk. Plus…he was shaped like a Dalek, complete with mini-repulsor enabled flight and tasering capabilities. In short, a tiny badass bot!

Circuit was simply the first thing they had built together and he was very special to Genim, but the greatest thing they had ever built had to be the Proving Ground.

The Proving Ground was a training simulator unlike any other. It even surpassed the one that Professor X had at X Mansion. Unlike the traditional style training course like Hogan’s Alley the FBI used, theirs was a pop culture wet dream. There was a Doctor Who simulator where you could fight off Daleks or Cybermen or the Silence or even the Weeping Angels. Any species villain really (with a bonus option of only having a Sonic Screwdriver to win with, too!). There was a Harry Potter simulator with Death Eaters firing off curses at you (that actually hurt! Especially the cutting curse, goddess bless the power of lasers.) and even had Voldemort as the final boss battle. A Kingdom Hearts melee battle against all the best Disney villains, and so many more. Genim frequented the Proving Ground near daily.

That was where he was headed to after breakfast, for sure! He had some things to get out.

Fifteen minutes later found Genim, along with his boys, making enough food to feed a small army—which really, the Avengers _definitely_ qualified as. Especially after facing down _actual_ armies and winning.

Nearly everyone was gathered at the banquet style/size dining table already. It was custom made from thick ebony wood and truly a work of art. One that was fairly indestructible from the runes and glyphs carved in key locations, where they would be the most effective without damaging the aesthetics.

Most of the furniture received the same treatment from his spark. It was a necessity when living with people like Bruce and Steve, and even Tony. Though damage from Tony tended to be more…explosive. **Literally. **

Once everyone was seated and the breakfast foods distributed, Genim looked around at everyone gathered and asked far too calmly, “Who would like to own up to the torture and murder of Sheriff Johnathan Stilinski?”

Most of the group felt genuinely shocked by his words, though a few were unable to make themselves look shocked by the news, let alone feel it.

“For spies and superheroes, you idiots sure do have shitty poker faces. So—Tony, Loki, papa, tad, Jasper, Maria—I will be making the six of you your favorite desserts tomorrow whilst you apologize for taking my closure away. Papa, you and taddy get to go back and have SHIELD take over for the FBI. Now, if you all don’t mind, I am going to go defeat the Dark Lord before Dr. Reese arrives for our first session.”

With that, Genim stood, gave his lover a tender kiss and his pup a gentle hug, before going to change and work his frustrations out.

Genim stood outside the door which took you into the Proving Ground, in the small antechamber which held both the simulation controls and the elevator access.

The teen was currently scrolling through the Simulation Theme list, smirking at all the choices. There were Star Wars, Doctor Who, Torchwood, Harry Potter, Star Trek, Batman, Elder Scrolls, Fallout, Mortal Kombat, COD: Zombies…the list just went on and on, with more than 200 Simulation Theme possibilities.

Once settling on the Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic simulation, he selected the second hardest difficulty and set an hour long timer. The young genius wanted a damn good exercise without it freaking killing him after all.

After Genim was finished imputing his desired settings, the door next to the input pad slid open without a sound, revealing the next area.

The room Genim next stepped into was called the Staging Area, where people were able to select what armoring and weapons they wished to use throughout the simulation.

For today, Genim selected a “wand” made of his favorite hornbeam wood, a full 12” and nicely flexible…with an electronic core, of course. Along with that he put on a full set of black and silver custom, light-weight battle robes—fighting in which had actually taught Genim to do battle in a wide range of different outfits, including skirts, dresses, and kilts. Which, yes, Genim does enjoy on occasion. Particularly early 1900s period fashion.

Now armed and armored, Genim slapped the big green button that started the timer, activated the simulation, and opened the final door—all at once.

As soon as the door fully opened, the teen was through it, dropping down low to avoid the ‘curse’ before firing back a ‘hex’ of his own. His, though, was not completely computer generated. It was his own spark shaped and channeled through the wood he held, which helped to shape his magic.

The first Death Eater went down with ease. More swarmed around him though, forcing him to dodge, roll, and stay on his toes. Genim could not slow down, not even for a moment, or he would have more volts than he cared to have flowing through him…painfully.

By the 45-minute mark, Genim had taken out the last of nearly 50 Death Eaters and the main even was about to start.  

A snake faced, ugly ass Voldemort slithered out, bone white wand aimed at him with a cruel look on his noseless face. The (albeit unreal) man looked quite terrifying up close; no matter how many times Genim face him and won.

It was a fierce battle. Genim took more than one direct hit of the simulated Crucio, but the teen still managed to get the upper hand, using all of his spark, intellect, and training to take him down in just under 15 minutes. It left him sweaty and quite satisfied though. He ached in the best of ways. Like he imagined what a good bout of sex with Steven Grant Rogers would be like—one day soon.

Going back into the Staging Area, Gen put his wand back into its proper holder, after which he began stripping down. A secondary door, easy to miss in between two of the weapons displays, was where he was aiming for next. The door led to the shower area that let whoever went through the simulation relax and clean off.

“Please turn the shower on to my post-heavy workout setting, Jay. Thank you,” Gen muttered just loud enough for the AI’s sensors to pick up. Moments later the comfortably-sized room filled with the sound of water raining down. Water which was at the perfect temperature to sooth his aching muscles. The peppermint oil infused into the water as it came raining down, relaxing him farther.

Halfway through his shower, the door silently slid open, though Genim couldn’t have heard it over the sound of the water rushing past his ears anyway. The arms of his lover suddenly wrapped around his waist to let him know that he was no longer alone. Arms which Genim knew intimately, which kept him from freaking out and protecting himself without thought.

“Hey soldier boy!” Genim purred, leaning back into his powerful, muscled body.

Steve pressed an open mouthed kiss to the base of Gen’s neck, whispering softly, “I want to take you out dancing tonight, mo spreachphlocoid (my sparkplug – Irish).”

Genim turned slowly in his lover’s arms as a seductive little grin formed. “Oh? And just where is it we’re going then, soldier boy?”

Steve didn’t answer at first, deciding instead to press Genim tight against the wall of the shower to kiss him until he felt as though he would soon melt into a puddle of goo and be washed away down the drain. “Mmm, delicious,” Steve muttered against his skin. “Well, Tony told me that The Back Room is still open. So, what do you say doll? Wanna be Steve and Rowan tonight?” Steve asked him with a seductive smirk of his own, fingers trailing over Genim’s subtle curves.

Genim rose an eyebrow at the question. “You do remember that I am not yet twenty-one, correct?”

Steve simply shrugged his Adonis-like shoulders. “So? We’re going out for dinner and dancin’, not to getcha sloshed. I want to take you out, on a real date. As far as you going as Rowan, well I remember the story you to me and I think you’d look so sexy in a Flapper dress or a 30s style dress. I’ll even wear a real pinstripe suit for you.”

Genim chuckled. He remembered the day that Steve spoke of well. A small smile came over his face as he thought back.

Genim loved the window seats Tony had installed on the floors that Genim – the reader- and Steve – the artist – frequented the most. You could tell the seats were meant for the pair due to the shelves dotted with favorite books and sketching supplies next to each of them.

On that day, Gen was curled up in an out of the way window seat on the common floor, reading _Your Biggest Fan_ by Missy Welsh. The cover of which had an obviously hot male wearing only lacy white panties on it. It was quite the captivating novel to be honest.

That was how Steve found him around 5 o’clock. The soldier held his favorite sketchbook; a green book with Steve’s name embossed on the lower right hand corner of the cover in silver. It had actually been a gift from Genim. Something to welcome Steve to the future while still acknowledging his past and his first real job as a comic book artist working for Detective Comics.

No one actually knew just what Steve drew in that particular book since it was the upmost secret for the soldier, something he refused to let anyone else lay their eyes on. Genim had even made it so only the soldier could open the book without the man’s permission. The young genius knew that the sketches within could make the man out of time feel both reminiscent and horny though, but thankfully never at the same time.

Today, Steve felt some anticipation when he approached Gen and asked, “Mind if I join ya, Gen? I have a piece in mind and the lighting in here is perfect for it.”

Genim graced Steve with one of his fairly rare, soft smiles which were reserved only for those he trusted and cared about most. “You should know by now that you needn’t ask. I enjoy the talks we get to have whilst you draw and I read.”

Once Genim shifted so that he was no longer hogging the entirety of the soft seat with his insanely long legs, Steve sat down, managing to compact himself into the other half of the seat quite gracefully.

After a few minutes, Steve was settled comfortably and sketching away. He decided that he would start the conversation this time and asked, “What book are ya readin’ today?” with his Brooklyn accent bleeding through beautifully.

“It’s called _Your Biggest Fan_ by Missy Welsh. It’s about this guy who has these two big secrets; one being his sexuality and the other being his occasional desire to wear what would be considered women’s clothing by most. Both are things I can relate to as I am pan romantic-demi sexual male who has a closet full of pretty outfits which don’t conform to societal ideas of normal.” Genim shrugged a bit, not caring that he was sharing the information with someone from the forties who may be disgusted by who he was. He shifted his hand, showing the cover of the book to the soldier to help him understand what he meant.

Steve didn’t look or feel disgusted by the revelation, however. Far from it actually, considering the sudden spike in arousal – as well as curiosity…

With a small tilt of his head, Steve softly asked, “How did you get into it?”

Genim set aside his book, shift to lean against the window as he brought his feet up and wrapped his arms around his knees with a bit of a frown. “It started when I was four-years-old. Halloween was coming up. My mother and I used to watch this show called Recess together. I absolutely adored Spinelli! She was this Tomboy type who gave absolutely zero fucks about what people thought of her. She was herself, no matter what. I wanted to be just like her.”

The teen closed his eyes, trying to keep from tearing up. “I asked my mom – begged more like – to go Trick-or-Treating as Spinelli. Unlike my…sperm donor…my mother came from a wonderfully liberal and highly accepting Polish family. Hell, her own twin had been out and proud since fourteen. After Halloween, she would occasionally buy me little girl clothes and let me wear them whenever the mood struck. It was never that I wanted to _be_ a girl. I just…I enjoyed being _pretty_ , and thus, Rowan Coulson was born.”

Steve was smiling brightly when Genim opened his eyes. “Maybe I’ll take Rowan out dancing someday, if she wouldn’t mind.”

Genim gave a soft chuckle. “Oh, I don’t think she’d mind a bit.”

After Genim said yes to Steve, the pair finished their shower quickly so Gen could go get ready for his first appointment with Dr. Ieuan Reese, his new supernatural therapist who was actually a type of Fae himself, though Genim was unsure of which type.

Thankfully, Dr. Reese would be coming to the tower instead of Genim having to go to his office. Mostly he was happy because he knew his support system would be nearby – something he would need desperately when it was all said and done.

Genim took a deep breath, trying to steady his shaky nerves, before he walked through the smart glass doors, into the room set aside on the 57th floor – where the medical floor also was. Thankfully, the room they were using was far from the sterile environment one would expect to find in a medical facility. On the other side in fact.

The room Genim found himself in had purple walls so dark it was hard to tell they weren’t _black_ , at least at first. The accents were done in silvers and greys that set the rest of the room off nicely. There were your standard seating options of office chairs and even armchairs but also a royal purple chaise lounge with silver stitching – which Genim headed straight for, comfortably laying out on it.

Less than five minutes later, the rooms door opened once more, allowing for Dr. Ieuan Reese to enter. The good doctor looked much like Kit Harrington with his long, curly hair, dark eyes, and delish facial hair. Jon Snow never looked this good! And then…and then he **_spoke_**!

“Good afternoon, Mr. Coulson. Do you mind if I call you Genim? And you, of course, may call me Ieuan, Reese, Doc, or any variation thereof,” Dr. Reese shared with his newest patient, his Welsh accent thick and beautiful.

Genim gave the man, who he’d decided to call Ieuan, a small smile. “I’m fine with Genim, Ieuan. I think that leaving the formalities at the door will make me more comfortable with all of this.”

“Of course,” Ieuan assured him with a kind, gentle smile meant to sooth the teen. “Before we really begin to get into everything, I have some questions I need to ask, okay?” At Genim’s easy nod, Dr. Ieuan continued, “Have you ever seen a therapist before?” he asked, pen poised over a standard yellow legal pad to take notes.

“I…I suppose? I saw a grief counselor for a few sessions after…” Genim cleared his throat, a look of overwhelming sadness overtaking him before he managed to continue. “After she, my mum that is, died. I was unable to speak freely to her though, as she was not educated about SHIELD _or_ the supernatural. It’s why I requested someone totally in the know this time, but not  actually a SHIELD employee.”

“That’s understandable. It’s important that you cannot just talk to your therapist, but also be able to _trust_ them and their motives. I am here for _you_ and only for you, Genim. I can only speak about our sessions if you give me permission to do so, and even then, I would hesitate. Mr. Stark has even been kind enough to remove all of his AI’s audiovisual capabilities in this room. Though be assured, all of the other sensors of the AI’s are in full working order. Now, what brings you here? To therapy I mean.” As Ieuan spoke, the teen frowned, shocked if he was being honest with himself.

Jarvis was, quite honestly, Tony’s baby. That the older genius would remove him from _ANY_ room was a testament to how much he cared for Genim and saw him as a beloved nephew, as well as how much he understood what it was like to be in therapy. It touched the young genius’s heart, deeply so.

Genim bit his bottom lip as he recounted his history. All of the things that had happened that had culminated into him needing to come and see the therapist. He held nothing back for once. For this to work Genim knew he could not hide anything.

The rules, the abuse, all of the _bullshite_ with the Hale’s and company, Scott’s betrayal, everything was laid bare.

Once Genim was finished speaking, Ieuan quickly finished taking down his notes before he asked the next standard question in his repertoire. “I know this may seem stupid but how does this problem typically make you feel?”

Genim frowned, turning his head to look at his therapist full on. “Really? ‘How does it make me _feel_?’ How do you think it makes me _feel_?! It makes me feel like shit! Like a worthless _freak_ who doesn’t deserve to live! I feel _alone_ and I **hate** that,” Genim hissed out, grabbing a Captain America shield stress ball off the table behind his head, giving it a few rough squeezes to calm himself down.

“I know it seems like an inane question but it actually is important. It allows me to understand how you are feeling and where you stand emotionally. Now, what have you found that makes the problems better?”

Tilting his head to the side, Gen took the time to actually think the question through rather than just answering with the first thing that came to mind. “Being here, I suppose. Being out of the grasp of the Sheriff, who could give most villains a good run for their money in the evil dick department. Being around people who actually _love me_ and treat me with  kindness and respect.”

Ieuan nodded, a look of compassionate understanding overtaking his facial features. “I’m glad to hear being here with your family and friends helps.” He made a few quick notes before continuing. “Now, you obviously have magic of your own since you are a fairly powerful Spark, but let’s pretend you don’t for just a moment, okay? Instead, if you could wave a magic wand a la Harry Potter, what positive changes would you make?”

Keeping his eyes on the shield shaped stress ball, Genim found himself fidgeting before he answered. While it seemed like an easy, fairly innocuous question, it was in truth far from it. What _would_ he change if he could? The thing with changing the past though, is that it would inevitably change the present and the future. From the point you changed on, nothing would be the same. The bad would be changed sure, but so would the good.

Sure, there were a lot of _really shitty_ things he wished he hadn’t had to live through but every moment slowly brought him to this. And really, that was hardly a _bad thing_ , was it? He had a wonderful family, amazing friends, and the most perfect man for him to tie it all together. A man he planned to spend the rest of his life with.

“I…” Genim took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t think I would change anything actually, if I’m honest. Was my childhood horrifyingly shitty? By the Goddesses, YES! If it was changed though, I would no longer have the things that make my life worth living – like my fathers, Isaac, or Steve. I don’t…I don’t think I could handle that. They mean too much to me to even _chance_ losing. Even though odds would be, I would never even know what I was missing, it doesn’t matter to me.” Gen sighed heavily, arms wrapping up tightly around his knees, hugging himself to stave off the panic attack he could feel building up inside of himself. “Can we talk about something else? Please?” Genim’s stuttered breaths gave testament to just how uncomfortable he was with the thoughts filling his mind.

“Genim, I need you to take a deep breath for me and relax. Not even Doctor Strange’s magic is powerful enough to change the past,” Ieuan murmured, trying to calm the teen down. Thankfully, the doctor knew what he was doing.

The session continued on for another 45 minutes once he was calmed down, without anything else remarkable happening; and soon Genim was on his way to Steve’s comforting embrace

Steve sat in front of the large television on his floor, controller in hand as he soared through the skies in Batman: Arkham City. It amazed him to see characters which _he_ helped to create still so popular! Characters like Selina Kyle (Catwoman), Alfred Pennyworth, the Joker, Harvey Dent (Two-Face), and so many more. Characters he’d based on friends, family, and even people like his neighbors. When he had first begun drawing for a little company called Detective Comics, he’d _never_ imagined they would become one of the two biggest names in comics – as well as the ones who turned him, or well **_Captain America_** , into a comic book character in his own right.

Steve had just bested Solomon Grundy and the Penguin at their own game when the living room door opened to reveal a wearing Genim who looked as though he’d been through the emotional wringer.

Without thought or hesitation, Steve paused his game, setting the controller aside to open his arms for his young love. He _hated_ seeing Genim like this. He should be smiling, always!

When Genim saw his arms open and waiting, the teen rushed across the room to throw himself at Steve, who quickly wrapped him up in a loving embrace meant to comfort as well he could. Steve also made sure to carefully project only feelings of love, protection, and other emotions which would help calm his lover down.

After nearly ten minutes of this, the silence was broken when the tow headed soldier asked, “Do you wish to talk about it, beloved?”

Genim sighed, shrugging his shoulders lightly. “I honestly do not know what to say. Yeah, it was stressful; it was painful and emotional. But you know what? It was worth it.”

Steve pressed a soft, steady kiss into Genim’s dark cinnamon locks. He ached at the fact that he couldn’t do more to ease the emotional pain.

Softly, Steve murmured, “If you aren’t feeling up to going out tonight, we can wait. I want you to really enjoy it. Not just suffer through because you feel…obligated, or anything like that.”

Genim shook his head, pulling back to look at his lover with an even deeper frown. “No! I want to go out tonight. I think it’ll be good…for me and for us.”


	6. I'm Like 'Fuck You'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back in Beacon Hills, showing those who were left behind just how big of a mistake they made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell, can you actually believe it?? I actually got out a chapter out in less than three months! To be fair, I have plenty of time when working to type it up.

Back on the West Coast, Danny Mahealani was checking his emails after an invigorating shower which had been proceeded by a fulfilling workout. What he found there genuinely shocked him. He had an email from one thebigboss@starkindustries.net which could only belong to one person – which was just insane. Tony. Fucking. STARK!

Tony Stark was emailing _him_.

 

Hey Kid,

I’m sure this is weird but we all (Avengers and various company) want to ask a favor of you. Attached to this email is a video file. Could you please gather the following people for a viewing of it? They are: Derek and Peter Hale, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Lydia Martin, Scott McCall, and Allison and Chris Argent. Assuming the last three are still breathing that is. OH! Also, Genim told me you’re 18. There is a summer internship waiting for you here at SI in New York should you so desire it. No strings attached.

-Tony Stark

 

Danny was left gaping at the email for quite some time. The two parts shocked him in equal measures. It took the Hawaiian teen and **_several_** threats – all involving Genim’s sort-of-but-not-really-a-secret family.

Once all of the requested audience was successfully assembled, Danny pulled the file up so they could easily watch it upon his large, 65-inch flat screen. This way no one would have to struggle to see because Danny had a feeling this was going to be too good to miss.

 Before pressing play, Danny told those assembled, “I am not sure what’s on here but destroy my living room and me killing you will be the _last_ of your problems.”

Without further ado, the young hacker pressed play. It took but a second for the screen to change from black to a fairly large crowd of superhumans, supernaturals, or just plain strange people. Front and center sat Tony Stark with Steve Rogers on his left and Loki Laufeyson on his right. Even Jackson and Isaac were there. None of the group shown looked particularly happy whilst many looked straight up _murderous_.

The first to speak was, of course, Steve Rogers – with his ‘Captain America is Disappointed in You’ face that can make anyone ashamed of themselves. “Hello. You may know me as Captain America but I am also Steve Rogers – Genim Coulson’s boyfriend, partner, datemate. Whatever term you might prefer. For those of you confused on who Genim Coulson is…well, you might know him better by his previous name of Stiles Stilinski. Someone you overlooked, beat down, beat up, and terrorized. Many of you are lucky to still be breathing. Not because of us but because of him.”

Green magic swirled around Loki’s fingers as he took over. Obviously they’d discussed what they were going to say to some extent beforehand. “You have harmed one I consider important and the soon-to-be Godfather of our youngest daughter. I do not take kindly to those I love being harmed in _any_ way. Should any of you ever even **_look_** at our Genim wrong again, I promise you that death would be a **kindness**.”

“Let us show you the _real_ Genim. The one you threw away,” Tony told them with a bit of an evil smirk. No wonder he and Loki were perfect together.

Once again the screen darkened before security footage of the Avenger’s gym began to play. On the screen Genim and Steve were stretching themselves out.

“Rules for today’s match, soldier boy?” Genim inquired with a hint of a playful smirk, stretching as suggestively as possible while keeping all his clothes on.

Steve just watched him for a moment before he replied, “I’m thinkin’ no holds barred, no such thing as dirty pool, your magic and my shield?”

Genim snorted on screen, standing up with a grace those in left in Beacon Hills had never seen. “The one with the fewest boo boos win,” the teen teased with a little wink.

Steve’s answering grin was positively wicked. “Don’t worry doll, I’ll give your poor, battered body a good rub when I win.”

“You wish! I’ll pull out the good stuff for ya to soak in after **_I_** completely kick your, admittedly sexy, star spangled arse.”

Without a discernable clue anyone could see, Genim suddenly rushed the Captain before dropping in to a well-planned slide, easily maneuvering between his lover’s legs and hitting the back of one leg to buckle it before springing back up. The teen spun around with a grace no one in Beacon Hills had ever seen. It was quite a beautiful sight to behold.

Captain Rogers took a knee, and before he could recover, Genim was jumping onto his back to throw him off balance and cause the supersoldier to fall forward.

After that opening move, the fight seemed to go up a notch or two. Steve drew first blood, but it was ultimately Genim who came out the victor. The teen was perched upon his datemate’s chest, the soldier held down with magic, Genim holding a conjured blood blade to Steve’s neck while the teen had a Cheshire grin on his face.

“Do you yield?” Genim purred, grinning down at the man who was at his complete mercy. If they weren’t in the gym, chances seemed good that this would turn pretty damn sexual.

The soldier put up a token struggle of protest, azure eyes darkening with lust of his own. “I yield. Shall we take this upstairs?”

The screen darkened for a moment before a new scene started. Now Genim was standing in a fairly average, if pretty damn advanced, shooting range. Joining him was a man with long, dark brown hair which was held up in a messy bun and a metal arm. Between the pair sat a waist high table covered in several types of guns.

The man with the metal arm asked, “Are you ready for this speed and accuracy test?”

Genim gave a firm nod. The black and blood red, skin tight body suit the teen was dressed in showed off every line of corded muscle, which he would normally hide under baggy clothes, as he leaned with both hands on the table.

The older male nodded in return. “This is a standard non-fighting protocol test. Disassemble, reassemble, fire six shots, continue. Your time starts…now!”

Just like when fighting Captain America, Genim moved with a deadly grace. Both Argents, as well as Peter Hale, were shocked at how fast he moved. Both knew how difficult it could actually be to do. No gun took more than 45 seconds to disassemble and reassemble. Some of the guns none of them knew, one even looking almost alien in its design.

Within seven minutes, Genim had returned to his starting position. “What’s the verdict then, Winter?”

“Well _shit_ kid. You just beat not only Clint’s but also my own record. Clint is the  only one to come near my speed record. Though he did beat me once, and only once, in accuracy. Still, not only as the Winter Soldier, but also just as Sergeant James Barnes, I have always been the best of the best. Seriously Gen, you are going to kick ass at SHIELD when you decide to join, and I know a lot of us want you to say fuck SHIELD and just become an Avenger.”

On screen, Genim looked so happy, close to tears from the Winter Soldier’s words even. Off screen, Chris Argent was pale and shaking a bit as he realized just _who_ was instructing the teen his father had tortured whilst his daughter had just happily stood by. He was _so_ going to end up dead. France was looking better and better with each passing second. Fucking hell.

The scene shifted once again. This time there was a puppy pile within a nest of pillows and blankets, containing Genim, Jackson, Isaac, and two unknown males as well. The Martian was playing softly in the background. It was obviously a favorite of the group, and one they had seen several times.

“Do you ever miss them? Scott, Lydia…Derek?” Isaac asked softly from his spot on his mother figure’s stomach.

Genim couldn’t seem to stop himself from frowning as he thought about it. “Not…not really. I miss what they could have been, I miss what we all could have been to be honest. Scott was always a shit best friend, Lydia was only ever really worthy of being a cover, and Derek…Derek has so much potential but he’ll never let the past go enough to achieve it. The only one I can _honestly_ say that I miss, as stupid as it may seem, is actually Peter. I know that probably sounds weird but, Peter was understanding. He knew what it was like to be the outsider. I will admit he needs a bit of therapy but he’s not honestly a bad man. Not like what others think.”

Isaac nuzzled into Genim’s stomach while Jackson snorted. “Try actually dating the harpy. Only reason I did was because it was expected of me as the lacrosse team’s captain. And now, I think I can actually find someone and be happy with them.”

“And it helped you hide how in love you are with a certain set of friends. One being a special Hawaiian goalie,” Genim gently teased Jackson, rubbing the top of his head playfully.

One of the unknown males asked, “Who is the second?”

They watched as Jackson and Isaac tense on screen while Danny tensed off screen. Genim hummed a little, head tilted as though he was listening to something only he could hear. After a moment he gave a small, sharp nod as though he’d made a decision or heard an answer he liked. “The other person would be my sweet puppy here. I honestly believe the best thing would be all three of them, together in a nice poly relationship. Especially since I know the feelings go all around. Jackson doesn’t have to pretend anymore, Isaac doesn’t have to fear anymore, and Danny…well, he never really had any of those hang ups but still. It could be a nice combination.” Genim shrugged as much as he could without dislodging anyone.

“Moving on from the past,” the other strange male said, “Have you decided what you’ll do this fall since you’ve officially test out of Eleanor Roosevelt High School and graduated already?”

“I’m still kind of on the fence. SHIELD, MIT, Cal Tech, Harvard, Columbia, and Cornell are all still attempting to woo me to their school. I think MIT is annoyed I didn’t test out of school to go their nearly, what, five years ago now? Uncle Tony told me I was good enough to join the SHIELD Academy and the college choice. I don’t really want to go far no matter the school though. What about you Peter? Where are you wanting to go? We all know Barry just plans on following you wherever you go, and Isaac and Jackson haven’t really had a chance to think about it,” the teen murmured.

“I’m surprised you’re bothering with college at all,” Jackson chuckled. “We all know the only person currently beating you at MENSA is Stark. You are a genius and we all know it.”

The screen darkened before coming up again. Startlingly, this time Genim was the only one on screen. He looked to be in a very beautiful bedroom done in various shades of blue and brown with a bit of green accenting the room for good measure. Genim was cross legged on the center of the bed. He was wearing soft-looking silver pajama pants with a matching silver top that had, “ _When you want to fool the world, tell the truth_ ,” in dark green thread.

The expression upon Genim’s face made nearly everyone currently within Danny’s living room want to flinch to at least some degree. None of them had ever seen the teen look so calm, still, or serious. “You know, it’s funny. No one in this tower can keep a secret. Especially not if you are one of JARVIS’ primary users, along with Steve and Loki of course. When I found out what they had planned…well, I demanded the chance to say my peace to each of you personally. So to speak,” began an overly calm Genim.

“Let us start with you, Vernon Boyd,” off screen Boyd’s eyes widened, not expecting to be targeted first. “I understand each of you had a reason to want the bite. Yours was simple. You wanted pack, a family that didn’t seem to hate you because of your missing sister. Yes, I know all about Alicia. She was a good kid and a phenomenal dancer. Thing is? You became just like your parents. You and Erica became bullies, not only at school but also within your own pack. What did it feel like? Watching me get tortured in the Argent basement? Did you want to join in? I really hope Erica has a golden pussy because you lost all of your morals when you started fucking her.”

Boyd listened to Genim, realizing he could have had an amazing friend he could talk to Alicia about without them blaming him. He never even knew that Stiles—Genim—had known his little sister. The more Genim talked, the sicker to his stomach he felt. He really had become just like his parents, like his father. No more. He didn’t care what Erica did, he was done with her. He wanted to be a better person than his father, than his parents.

“Speaking of Erica!” Genim continued on screen. “Wow, have you become a Bubblegum Bitch. That is not a compliment by the way. After you were turned, you told me you had the biggest crush on me before everything happened. You also tore out a piece of Roscoe, who belonged to my _mother_ by the way, and hit me with it. See, I already knew about your so-called crush, but you never actually saw me, did you? Not really anyway. You only ever saw the construct. Did you know it was me who took down the video of you seizing and pissing yourself, and made Mark’s life  hell for it? Of course not. Because you never saw _me._ Now, just because you’ve changed, you’ve become a worse bully than Mark ever was. If you think being bullied entitles you to bully others, I will fucking have **_Captain America_** come to BHHS to give you a nice, long, and very _public_ lecture at to why you are wrong. I used to actually admire you. Now? I just pity you.”

To say Erica was pissed would be an understatement. Where the _fuck_ did pathetic little Stiles Stilinski get off saying that shit about her?! Next time she saw him; she wouldn’t be so fucking gentle. His death would make her so very happy.

Genim leaned back on his hands, smirking a bit. “Lydia Anne Martin. The Queen Bitch of Beacon Hills High School. You are smart. There is no denying your smart but you are so vain you decide to hide it rather than embrace it. You act like being smart is a bad thing to show. You used to act like I was beneath your feet because you are so fucking obsessed with being ‘the best’, whatever that means. I honestly believe you could go far one day but you won’t. You won’t because in the real world, your vanity would just make you a target. Grow up Lydia, before you get stuck in Beacon Hills.”

Lydia gave the television a glacial stare, the words cutting deeper than she thought they would. Why should she care about sad little Stiles Stilinski after all? In truth, it hurt because she knew they were true. She knew that if she didn’t find a way out, she would always be here. Amounting to absolutely nothing.

Genim turned his head slightly to smile at something they could not see on screen before he continued on with this cathartic little tirade. “You know Chris…I can’t even blame you all that much. I know what an abused child looks, and feels, like when confronted with their abuser. That does not mean you should continue following your father’s indoctrination. I spent _years_ under the abuse of the esteemed Sheriff. Rise above, or continue on as you are and expect a…special visit. As it stands, your daughter is on the verge of getting a special visit herself. You aren’t a bad person Chris. Just forcefully made to into something you aren’t.”

Chris looked close to having a complete breakdown. Only three people knew what Gerard put him through: Gerard, Kate, and his mother, Annabeth. Not even Victoria had ever figured it out, if she’d ever even tried. Chris knew that this impossible teen was right. He also knew that as soon as this little chat was over, he was headed home to pack the fucking house up to get the fucking **_hell_** out of dodge. He was  not dying for his father’s ideologies. Ideologies he didn’t even believe in. He **refused!**

Genim leaned back a bit, a strange look of contemplation coming over his features. “Allison Argent, real life Disney Princess. How wonderful an actress you truly are. You are more like your dearest auntie Katherine than anyone ever realized, aren’t you? I wish Peter would’ve _ripped your throat out_ when he had the chance. Does daddy dearest know about the plans you and Gerard made to finish off the last of the Hale’s along with the new Hale pack? I doubt it. I’m glad I took care of your disgusting grandfather. While the rest of you were busy celebrating, or whatever you all were doing after the fight, I was busy burying Gerard across the forest like I did with Kate—both chopped up into enough bits that they will _never_ be able to pull off a Peter and find a way to come back.” Suddenly a truly wicked smirk came over Genim’s features, one that promised dark things to come. “The night before I moved home, I worked a bit of my magic. I cast a spell centered on you. Any time you even **_think_** about hurting someone…” His chuckle was truly dark, “Well, I just wouldn’t, if I were you.”

Allison had a dark look on her face as she muttered many a disparaging remark about Genim under her breath in French while she thought about various ways to get around the little “spell” that bastard placed on her so she could track him down and enjoy his death. Within milliseconds, pain unlike anything she had ever imagined pulsed through her, making her cry out. Allison’s body seized up, locking her muscles tight for nearly a minute.

On screen, Genim was watching the black and red watch on his wrist as if waiting for something. It was only a few moments after Allison stopped screaming that he looked back up from the watch with what could only be described as a sinister smile. “How’d that feel Princess? That wasn’t even a fraction of the pain you’ve inflicted on me and the others. The more you think about it, the worse the pain will be. I wonder how much pain _you_ can stand.”

Genim paused, clearing his throat before he continued on down his apparently mental list. “Scott Rafael McCall. My supposed ‘best friend’,” he began, complete with finger quotes to show just how sarcastic he was being. “If only people knew the truth about you. About how you used the ‘spaz’ to make your asthmatic ass look better. About the girl you killed when you first turned that no one realized was killed because you burned her body. She’s still listed as a missing person. About how much you _enjoyed it_. You felt no guilt though, so your eyes never changed to that electric blue. I should’ve put you down like the rabid dog you are. Maybe I should let Melissa know just what kind of a son she raised.”

Scott just growled at the TV, claws popping out as he flexed his hand in an almost threateningly manner.

Genim took a deep breath, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he sighed deeply, his eyes snapping back open. “Peter Andrew Hale. Sole survivor of the Hale fire. Laura and Derek do not count; they weren’t actually there. You know Peter, I don’t actually think you are a bad guy. I can understand revenge better than you can imagine. I can understand murder too. I was raised by killers after all, one of which was an assassin long before he joined SHIELD. My only real problem with you now is your inability to let the past go. You got your revenge. Those who killed your family, your little baby, are dead and dusted. It’s time to start rebuilding your life. I believe in you, Wilk.”

Until his dying day, Peter would deny he had ever cried at Genim’s words. The fact that the teen had always been a favorite of his affected him all the more. The wolf would always regret biting Scott McCall instead of the obvious genius. Peter had always seen the incredible potential that Genim carried, seen the genius as he was. Genim was right though, it was time to let go and start moving forward. His mate was still alive out there somewhere after all. It was time to find him and try to rebuild the relationship they had before the fire, before his sister tore them apart. He was going to send the kid a gift basket if it all worked out.

For the first time since the video started, something other than anger or disappointment came over his face. It was only a flash but the pain etched into his features for those few brief moments was obvious. And then, as though someone shook him like an Etch-A-Sketch, his face returned to that pervasive blankness that blocked out any visible emotion. Something those in Beacon Hills had never seen before.

“Derek,” Genim practically whispered. “Once upon a time, I had thought I loved you. I thought that we might even be mates.” Derek looked stricken at the screen. “And then, I realized what I felt was not love and that no one should ever have to feel unsafe in their relationship like I would have felt with you. You respond to most of your emotions with violence and you were more than fine to sit back while your betas hurt myself and others. That is no way for an Alpha to act, let alone a mate. I understand that you were never _meant_ to be the alpha but guess what? You ** are** the Alpha now! So you need to grow the fuck up and _act_ like it, alright?!” Genim sighed heavily, shaking his head in fairly obvious disappointment.

Derek let out a soft, pained noise as Genim spoke. Something no one, not even his uncle, knew was that Derek had true feelings for the mouthy teen. Was it love? Maybe not yet, but it could be with a little time. However, Derek let his anger and fear rule him, causing him to push the manic male away. He never wanted to let himself be as vulnerable as Kate had made him, ever again. Genim may have said that he, Isaac, and Jackson were still a part of his back but Derek knew the truth. The betas had a new alpha now, in the form of a smart, sarcastic spark who would take better care of them that Derek _ever_ could.

“Well, I suppose I should wrap this up, huh? Danny, thank you so much for allowing us to do this. Without you, it never would’ve happened. Tony’s offer was genuine by the way, and I have two puppies here who would love to see you again.” Genim gave him a big, bright smile. “As for the rest of you? Well, I hope to never see most of you assholes again. Although…when you find your mate again, you should bring him here, Peter. I know we’d all love to meet him and see you again. So yes, I guess that is all. Goodbye.”

The screen of the Mahealani’s television suddenly went black, leaving everyone speechless, though for a variety of different reasons. Only Danny and Peter were having truly positive reactions or thoughts to the video that they had just seen. Currently, both of them were mentally making plans to leave Beacon Hills, possibly permanently if possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me know what you think, especially about what Genim had to say to the people left back in Beacon Hills.
> 
> Next chapter should be hopefully be up within the next month. Lots of romance in that one. ;) it's date night after all.


	7. I'm With Cupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Wow, I really hope you guys like this chapter. The song Genim sings towards the end is one that I absolutely love. I suggest listening to both Peter Gabriel's original and Gavin James' cover of it. 
> 
> _**Important Links**_ :  
> [Steve's Outfit](http://www.polyvore.com/steves_romantic_outfit/set?id=228403484)  
> [Genim/Rowan's Outfit](http://www.polyvore.com/rowans_romantic_outfit/set?id=228401881)  
> [Genim/Rowan's Microphone](https://snipersdoitcalmer.tumblr.com/private/image/165872348536/tumblr_ox22wwDaQf1ug40ig)

Genim Coulson sat at the antique vanity which was placed within the master bathroom of the floor he shared with Steve. He was currently dusting a bronzed rose blush over his cheeks, working to make the more defined. More feminine, really. Already the teen had his eyelids dusted a soft green color hue that really brought out the natural color of Genim’s cinnamon eyes. Once his cheeks were finished, Genim picked up a dark red lipstick, carefully applying it like his mother taught him.

Once Genim’s make-up was complete, Genim ambled back into his bedroom. Laid out there on the bed was a striking green dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place back when Steve was just a teen himself. Genim loved the feel of the satin against his hairless flesh as he slipped the dress on. Personally, he felt he would have fit right in with the flappers of the era, especially with his 1920s styled wig. The lace and beadwork just made it stand out all the more.

When Genim was fully dressed, face on and flapperesque wig in place, the teen walked as calmly as he could out into the main living area of the floor he shared with Steve. None of the people waiting on him, sans his fathers, had ever seen him looking the way he currently was. He’d rarely ever gotten to be Rowan over the years. The only time he’d ever been allowed really was when he was alone with his mother or uncles which was pretty rare. Although, there was that one Halloween at the Jungle…

The collective gasp at Genim’s looks actually felt pretty damn good, but the lack of negative emotions coming from anyone made it all the sweeter. He didn’t think he’d ever get to have a life like this but here it was.

A soft blush darkened Genim’s already reddened cheeks. His hands came up to cover his face but still, he smiled brightly behind his fingers.

Genim could feel his lover come up to him without ever opening his eyes. All he needed was Steve’s beautiful emotions to know just where the man was. The artist whispered, “Wow doll! You look delicious,” with his native Brooklyn accent bleeding through thickly. “I can’t wait to get out on the dance floor with you darlin’. So Rowan, is my best love ready to paint the town?”

Opening his melted chocolate eyes, Genim was able to take his lover in. He was wearing a dark, charcoal grey pinstripe suit and a black and silver striped tie. Underneath that was a green dress shirt so dark it almost looked black itself. Topping it all off was a black homburg hat which had a dark green ribbon around the crown of the hat along with a feather tucked into it which easily tied it all together. In a word? Steve Rogers looked simply delectable. Almost like mafia dons of old when they were all dressed up to kill.

“Wow, you really got your glad rags on tonight sugar. You look like a regular Joe Brooks,” Genim, now Rowan, practically purred. The slang from the 20s and 30s rolled off his tongue naturally, “Yup. Don’t wait up for us! I ain’t comin’ home until I’ve had my fill of the dance floor tonight.”

Rowan sat next to Steve in the back of Tony’s midnight black 2016 Porsche Panamera Turbo S as Happy drove them towards where Steve had made reservations for dinner at Gargiulo’s Italian Restaurant—which was a restaurant that Steve actually knew from before the big freeze. Especially since it originally opened way back in 1907. He and Bucky had actually managed to scrap together enough money to go to dinner there before Buck had to ship off to basic, and again when Buck had come back on leave.

Leaning over against the captain, Rowan sighed happily as Steve wrapped a loving arm around the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life, however long that may be, with.

As time went by and Steve fell further in love, he could not help but think of getting Pepper to take him shopping for the investment of a lifetime—a ring he could present to his prince on bended knee. He would be lost without Genim, and they lived in a time where they could celebrate their love without fear! How beautiful Genim Celestyn Coulson-Rogers sounded to him…

After twenty short minutes of driving through New York traffic, they were finally pulling up to Gargiulo’s where—so far at least—no paps were waiting to stalk the superhero and his date. While both Steve and Genim understood what Captain America meant to the people, Steven Grant Rogers was not that man. Steve Rogers was just a man who lived in Brooklyn most his life and came from a couple of poor Irish immigrants…as far as he was concerned at least.

Being the absolute gentleman which his generation was known for producing, Steve got out and walked around the car to open Rowan’s door, waving Happy off when he got out to do just that, as was his job. Rowan took the hand Steve offered to delicately step out of the car, his heels making a satisfying clack on the concrete as he stood.

“Thank you Steven. Always such a gentleman, doin’ your mama proud,” Rowan murmured as he gave his lovers cheek a gentle peck.

Twining their arms together, the young couple headed into Gargiulo’s where the hostess greeted them with a kind, nonjudgmental smile. “Welcome to Gargiulo’s! My name is Celeste and I will be your hostess this evening. Do you have a reservation for tonight?”

Both Steve and Rowan returned her greeting before the soldier replied, “Yes ma’am, we do. A table for two under the name of Steve Rogers. Somewhere with relative privacy if at all possible. Thank you.” Steve gave her one of his ‘Apple Pie and Freedom’ smiles under the hopes that they would be seated at the table where they would not have a problem with other patrons staring or their private conversations being overheard (though Rowan could at least help with the second one).

Celeste, the kind woman she obviously was, easily acquiesced to their request. Though she gave no real outwardly sign, Celeste knew just who Steve Rogers was and she believed the couple deserved privacy during their obvious date. “I know the perfect table sir, madam. Please follow me.” The elegant red-head with eyes which did her name justice snatched up two menus before heading to a private corner of the restaurant where Celeste knew they would not be disturbed.

Rowan gracefully sat in one of the chairs with his back against the wall while Steve sat to the younger male’s immediate left rather than across from him as was the more ‘traditional’ dating option. The pair were more ‘touchy-feely’ though, and they wanted the option of holding hands and trading leisurely kisses throughout their meal.

Once comfortably seated, the couple began to go over the menu. The decisions on what to eat were not easy ones to make considering what a large, delicious selection of foods were available to them.

Rowan hummed as his cinnamon eyes roved over the menu trying desperately to decide between the seafood linguini and the parmesan chicken. Both sounded beyond delicious if he was being honest. Rowan was leaning more towards the seafood linguini—especially considering all the muscles, shrimp, scallops, and lobster were as fresh as they came and were in plentiful quantities.

“I’m thinking seafood linguini tonight. What about you love?” Rowan asked as he reached over and placed a loving hand on the soldier’s thigh.

Steve smiled at Rowan’s hand on his thigh. The touch of his lover was something the soldier could never, and would never, tire of. After a moment of consideration, Steve replied, “I think that the lasagna looks delicious. With a large salad on the side.”

Rowan chuckled softly at that. “Sounds perfect.” He flagged down whomever was to be their server for the evening.

“Good evening and welcome to Gargiulo’s. My name is Gregory and I will be your server for this evening. May I take your orders?” the server asked with pen poised over pad as he waited to write their orders down. Genim had to admit, the dude was cute and reminded him of a 20ish year old Rider Strong.

“I will have a large lasagna with a large salad with ranch on the side,” Steve requested, “and my lovely Rowan will have the seafood linguini with an order of stuffed mushrooms on the side, please.”

Gregory nodded and finished quickly writing down the request before asking, “And what would you like to drink?”

“I think we will have Sparkling Berried Squash to start with, thank you,” Steve once again answered for both of them. Sparkling Berried Squash was a delicious drink made from crushed strawberries and raspberries which were then muddled with sparkling soda water to make a fruity, fizzy concoction which had originated in Cardiff, Wales. They actually had the drink quite frequently at the tower.

Once the couple was once again left alone, Steve asked Rowan, “Are you excited for the games in a couple days?”

Rowan grinned brightly at that. “You mean the Paintball Assassins game a la H1Z1? Of course I am! It’s gonna be a blast. I know all of SHIELD has already placed their bets on everything from who would be first to get eliminated to who will be the last one standing to how long the entire match will actually last this year.” The last game ended up being over eight hours long, and it nearly ended in a stalemate between Taddy Clint and Wade Wilson, AKA Hawkeye and Deadpool. In the end, Wade got in a lucky shot that landed mere milliseconds before Clint’s own shot managed to strike. In the end it came down to an instant replay. “Are you excited, love?”

Steve nodded in return. “You best believe it beautiful. I already placed my bets with Agent Anderson, or Galaga Guy as most insist on calling the poor man because of Tony. And by that, I mean that I put it all on you to kick the asses of the top four assassins since Buck is joining in the game this year. I also bet that Tony would be the first out this year. He’s going to explode when if he finds out but it’ll be worth it.”

Rowan could not help but blush as he learned his lover had bet for him to win against the deadliest people in the world. It was…humbling…to say the least.

“I…can’t disagree about Tony. I feel like it would either be him or Agent Skye…or Daisy Johnson depending on the day. She’s getting better but she’s still pretty green, especially when it comes to some of the weapons available to us during the games,” Rowan assessed, pausing before he continued. “Why…” the young man had to clear his throat before he continued. “Why do you think I’m going to win?” The confusion Rowan felt was evident with every word he spoke.

Steve smiled at his younger lover, examining every facet of his being before he replied. “Because, whether you are currently Rowan or Genim, you, my darlin’, are one _hell_ of a tactition. You know everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. You know how to hide, to wait. When to strike and when to let the others do the dirty work for you. Roe, you are great at letting others thin the herd before striking.” Steve’s smile went soft and soppy, the feeling of love pulsing from the soldier growing stronger. “I believe in you. Always have, always will my sweetest darling.”

“I love you so freaking much, Steven Grant Rogers,” Rowan confessed, voice barely above a whisper. Just loud enough for the soldier to hear. Rowan knew, he just _knew_ , that this man was the one which he would spend his forever with. Nothing would ever change that. Not. A. Damn. Thing.

Before Steve had a chance to reply, Gregory was returning with an antique, wooden cart which contained both their dinner and drinks. The man, with his adorable dark blue curls, served them with a smile.

“Thank-you Gregory,” the couple told their server. He replied with a simple, “You’re welcome,” before leaving the pair to their romantic dinner.

While Steve and Genim ate their dinner, their conversation turned to lighter topics—such as the movie they had watched the day before while they cuddled on their bed. Inside Out may have originally been a children’s movie but, well, watching so called ‘children’s movies’ was a favorite pastime of the couple.

“I mean, I get that Joy and Sadness are an integral part of a person’s personality, but I feel like they didn’t really do the other emotions justice. Anger is more than just rage, disgust is more than just thinking things are ‘icky’, and fear can be a good thing! Maybe it’s because of my being an Empath but emotions are truly complex things that cannot be so overly simplified. Plus, Joy was a bit of a self-centered bitch,” Rowan muttered in between bites of his perfectly cooked seafood linguini and his stuffed mushrooms. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the movie and all, being an empath just made him a bit more critical of how emotions were portrayed in films and literature, okay?!

It made Steve smile whenever he saw his datemate get so passionate about something. Those brown eyes of his would glitter while he began to talk with his hands. It was moments like these that you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Genim and Tony were secretly related. They just acted so much alike when they got passionate or involved deeply in something.

“I can’t really disagree with you. Sure, it was a fun movie, and Sadness was absolutely _adorable_ , but you are right about Joy. She was so selfish and self-centered. The way Joy was willing to sacrifice Sadness really bothered me. She acted like she was the only one who actually mattered to Riley and her overall mental state. She completely disregarded the other four. I loved the art, though. I will admit that.” Steve told his younger partner with a slight chuckle.

The art was one of the big draws of animated movies for Steve. At the end of the day, Steve would always be an artist at heart; not a soldier. Even if he was Captain America, he would always be Steve Rogers at the end of the day who helped to create some of the most famous comic characters of all time, and he liked it that way. Fame was a fickle mistress after all. Any Avenger could tell you that, sadly.

It wasn’t much longer until the couple had finished their meal and were ready to head out to the second portion of their evening. The club they were headed to was called The Back Room, and it was one of New York City’s best kept secrets. While it wasn’t from Steve’s era like the restaurant was, the club was designed to look like it was an authentic speakeasy type club from the 1920s and 30s. It mimicked the era well. It wasn’t like a lot of the clubs today, and that was what made it so appealing to them. The Back Room had a live band that would oft take requests, sometimes putting their own spin on the songs much like PostModern Jukebox would. It was something Rowan planned on taking advantage of tonight. He’d even called ahead to be sure that the band was familiar with the song he wanted.

The drive over to The Back Room thankfully didn’t take very long. It was tucked away, lacking flashing neon lights and impossible lines to get through.

Inside the club, or speakeasy if you prefer, there were already several couples out on the dance floor while the band played James Taylor’s _Your Smiling Face_. Rowan couldn’t help but grin. This place was perfect for Steve and himself. He could feel it in his bones.

After a moment, Rowan turned to Steve with a sweet smile on his dark rose lips. “Would you get us a table love? I need to powder my nose.”

Steve nodded, giving Roe’s had a gentle squeeze and kissed his nose playfully before letting go. “Alright darlin’. I’ll get you a virgin strawberry daiquiri.”

“Thank you love,” Rowan murmured before walking off in the direction of not only the bathroom but also backstage acess (which was where he was truly aiming for). Once he reached the right door, Rowan knocked on the door, waiting for it to be answered. After only a few moments, the door was answered by a young man around Steve’s age with bright green eyes and bluish black hair that was styled artfully.

“Kendell, right?” Rowan asked, a little shy. This was a big deal after all. At least to Rowan.

The shorter male nodded. “And you must be Rowan. So Rowan, are you ready to knock your man’s socks off?”

Rowan couldn’t have stopped the grin even if he tried. He was beyond excited after all. “I am beyond ready. Did you get the microphone I asked for?” Roe asked Kendell nervously. The empath wanted—needed—it all to be perfect as possible. This was his way of saying that whenever Steve was ready, so was Genim.

Kendell nodded at the question. “The Astatic T-3 Crystal Microphone is waiting for you on stage. Finley made sure it is cordless so you can just detach it from the stand and walk around with it whenever you’re ready to go off stage. Good luck. Knock ‘em dead.”

Within minutes Rowan was standing just off stage waiting for Finley to finish introducing him to the crowd. “Tonight, we have a very special treat for all of you, but one guest in particular. Performing _The Book of Love_ by Peter Gabriel… ** _Welcome Rowan Genim Coulson to the stage!_** ”

Rowan sashayed out onto stage to fairly bright applause. A slight blush darkened Rowan’s lightly dusted cheeks. The darkened lights of the lounge thankfully covered it up. Before he began to sing, Rowan’s eyes sought out Steve’s. “Thank-you for allowing me this opportunity. I would like to dedicate this song to my forever—Steven Grant Rogers. This one is for you soldier.”

Rowan cleared his throat, hand wrapping around the microphones gleaming silver finish as the band started playing a tempo that was a shade different than Peter Gabriel’s original. Closer to Gavin James’ version, and better suited towards Rowan’s vocal style.

 

_The book of love is long and boring_

_No one can lift the damn thing_

_It’s full of charts and fact,_

_Some figures and instructions for dancing_

 

The words came out smoky smooth and his eyes never left his sweet soldiers.  


_But I,_

_I love it when you read to me_

_And you,_

_You can read me anything._

 

Even from that distance, Rowan could tell Steve’s eyes were misting over as emotion overtook him.

 

_The book of love has music in it,_

_In fact, that’s where music comes from._

_Some of it is just transcendental._

_Some of it is just really dumb._

 

Rowan nodded slightly to signal to Finley he was going off stage after the chorus, pulling the microphone out of its stand as he smiled.

 

_But I,_

_I love it when you sing to me._

_And you,_

_You can sing me anything._

Swaying forward, Rowan calmly started towards the edge of the stage slowly.

 

_The book of love is long and boring,_

_And written very long ago._

_It’s full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes,_

_And things we’re all too young to know._

There was a hint of playfulness dancing in Rowan’s eyes as he started the chorus, getting ready to get off stage.

 

_But I,_

_I love it when you give me thing._

_And you,_

_You ought to give me wedding rings._

 

Rowan slipped off the stage, moving closer to his target with every word he sang. This had to be perfect. He refused for it to be anything other than that.

_And I,_

_I love it when you give me things._

_And you,_

_You ought to give me wedding rings._

 

The teen stepped up to Steve with a soft smile, reaching out with his free hand to take ahold of his soldier’s hand.

 

_You ought to give me…wedding rings._

 

The final line was sang barely above a whisper. As the final bars of the song played out, Rowan leaned forward to give Steve a love filled kiss to the cheers of the other patrons within the lounge.

“I love you with all my heart and soul, my soldier,” Rowan whispered against his lips.

Steve Wrapped his arms around Rowan, whispering, “I love you too, my prince,” back.

It was one of those perfect moments. The ones that don’t oft come around but when they do, you know that you will never forget them for as long as you live—no matter how long that may be. It was also the moment that Rowan knew what his future held. There would be no more indecision while he struggled to decide his path.

Genim’s future had never looked so clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment, it let's me know what I'm doing is worth it!


	8. Leave Your Hat On (Bonus Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genim gets wicked in this little bonus chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=229838116 
> 
> Genim's outfit for the dance.

Coming home from their amazing date night, Genim felt a little…frisky. He decided he was going to be a bit naughty and see just what trouble he could get himself into tonight.

“Do you trust me, baby?” Genim purred, cocking his head to the side with a touch of wickedness in his eyes and a tiny smirk on his lips. When Steve nodded, looking like it was a stupid question to even think of asking (which…fair…), Genim gestured towards a gorgeous black chair with dark purple accents – the most comfortable armchair that they owned. “Sit down there and relax. I have a surprise for you but I need to change real quick first, okay?”

Steve rose his eyebrow but he didn’t argue. Instead, the soldier simply unbuttoned his suit jacket as he walked over to the armchair before sitting down, shifting around until he was comfortably situated. His eyes drifted closed while he waited, so very curious as to what his impish lover had in mind.

The only sound filling the air at that moment was the sharp click-clacking of Genim’s heels against the polished wooden floors of their apartment as he walked back to a small room which was meant for Genim whenever he wanted Rowan to come out to play. It was in that room which Genim changed.

The new dress he had slipped on had a plunging neckline and no back. It also just barely brushes around his knees where it moved around loosely. He changed his heels into higher ones with thin strips which wrapped up around his ankles delicately. After that, Genim changed his wig to a darker brown, wavy one which curled down around his shoulders, about two inches past. He finished the outfit off with a long trench-style coat which covered everything but his head and his heels in a dark black.

Once Gen was dressed, the young genius headed back into the living room but not before giving Jarvis a very specific set of instructions.

With a smirk Genim plucked the hat off of Steve’s head as he walked by. It would be the perfect prop in the show he was about to put on. The move caused Steve to snap his eyes open wide.

“Be a good boy for me, okay baby? Stay in the chair and just watch. I wanna show you a _real good time_ ,” Gen purred. His gaze was intense, and his pupils were blown wide with lust. The ending to tonight would hopefully be unforgettable.

Placing the hat on his head, Genim look down at the floor with a naughty smirk. With the roll of his wrist and snap of his fingers the music began. As it started, Genim slowly rose his head while he tapped his foot to the beat. His hands rose to undue the few buttons he had done up before spinning around and _slowly_ letting his trench coat slip down to the floor, revealing his bare back. All the while, he sang along perfectly with the music.

 

_Baby, take off your coat…real slow_

_Baby, take off your shoes…here, I’ll take off your shoes_

Genim bent over, fingers nimbly undoing the clasps holding his heels on, knowing that the position would give Steve just a little flash of his lacy black panties before he stood up and kicked off his heels, dropping down a few inches.

 

_Baby, take off your dress_

_Yes, yes, yes_

 

Genim reached up and seductively untied the two pieces of cloth wrapped around each other to keep his dress up. As the tie came undone, Genim let the cloth go, allowing the dark cloth to cascade down his body like a black waterfall, leaving the young man in nothing but his matching black lace bra and panty set. Oh…and Steve’s homburg.

 

_You can leave your hat on_

_You can leave your hat on_

_You can leave your hat on…_

Genim slowly spun on stocking clad feet, showing Steve the bulge of his hardening cock. There was even a growing wet spot barely noticeable at the tip. He was already so fucking turned on, and the fun was only just getting started.

 

_Go on over there and turn on the light…no, all the lights_

_Now come back over here and stand on this chair…that’s right_

_Raise your arms up into the air…shake ‘em_

 

Gen sashayed over to the panel that controlled the lights and turned them up slowly as he sang along with the voice being piped through the speakers, before the young man sauntered back towards Steve. Since there was no convenient chair to safely dance on, Genim simply stepped up onto their solid ebony coffee table, raising his arms in the air as he moved back and forth seductively without breaking eye contact.

 

_You give me a reason to live_

_You give me a reason to live_

_You give me a reason to live_

_You give me a reason to live_

The young man jumped down and slinked predaceously towards his lover. There was something almost primal about the look in his eyes. He was a predator stalking his prey. The shiver Steve gave showed just how much Genim’s little show as affecting him. It gave Gen a rush of power to have such a strong effect on the man he loved and adored.

_Suspicious minds are talking_

_Trying to tear us apart_

_They say my love is wrong_

 

In a move that was less awkward than one would think, the young man straddled the lap of his lover. Automatically Steve’s hands came up to grasp at his hips, preventing Genim from falling off as he continued to “dance” on Steve’s lap. While the pair were far from chaste, it was rare they had enough time to be together like this. Roaming hands caressed the soldier’s chest as Genim’s nimble fingers started to unbutton Steve’s forest green dress shirt. As he went down the line of buttons, Genim made sure to sensually rub the tips of his fingers over the newly revealed flesh.

 

_They don’t know what love is_

_They don’t know what love is_

_They don’t know what love is_

_They don’t know what love is_

With a single minded desire, Genim’s lips bit at Steve’s neck before his tongue lathed away the pain. He loved to mark his lover even if the soldiers accelerated healing erased the evidence of his hard work within half an hour. With as wound up as they both wore, the teen knew they would not last much longer.

Pulling back, Genim’s chocolate eyes met Steve’s sky blue ones to softly sing the last line of the song, his voice surprisingly steady despite the heat coursing through his veins.

_I know what love is…_

 

Within the final strands of music surrounding the two men, they chorused out their completion with each other’s names.

Sticky and sweating, Genim leaned forward with his head resting on Steve’s shoulders. Both were a bit flushed and out of breath as they came down from their ardent highs. That was an amazing experience that Genim definitely wanted to repeat one day.

“Wow…” Steve murmured, one of his hands lazily rubbing his lovers back. “That was amazing babydoll. Whatever made you decide to do this tonight?”

Genim gave a throaty chuckle before shrugging a bit. “I like making you feel good and to be honest, this made me feel good too. Made me feel sexy. Would you like it if I did it again sometime?”

“I definitely liked it and would love if you did it again. Especially if it made you feel sexy. For now, though, I think we should get cleaned up and get some sleep. You know the boys will be waking us up bright and early in the morning,” Steve murmured, letting out a little bit of a yawn.

Genim nodded, grinning softly when Steve stood up with him in his arms, cradling him close. Now that felt good. By the gods, he loved this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this bit of naughty fun. I suck at writing sexual scenes but I still hope it was good enough. I love this song and I heard it the other day and decided it was a perfect little bonus before the paintball game!
> 
> Love you guys!  
> Alex


	9. To The Leader, The Pariah, The Victor, The Messiah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This.  
> Is.  
>  **War!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it has finally arrived. I was supposed to have this done long ago but fuck...fighting is not something I am good at writing. I apologize in advance if this is shite but I **PROMISE** the next chapter will be so much better. In fact, it is already written! I just need to type it up - which since I am officially off until summer, I will have PLENTY of time to do so.

Only a few short days after the most romantic night of his life, Genim was preparing for war. Not against supervillains or aliens. No, it was nothing as _trivial_ as that. He was about to go to war against nearly all of SHIELD  and the Avengers (sans Dr. Banner, thankfully).

Genim was currently decked out in an obsidian black and blood red outfit modeled after Ezio’s outfit in Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood. Although Genim’s was _much_ cooler. At least, according to him it was. Attached to his person currently were no less than _four_ semi-automatic pistols (with suppressors) and _two_ high powered rifles with even higher-powered scopes. He also had  several spare clips for each weapon hidden upon himself. All-in-all, Genim was far more than ready for this battle to begin!

The battlefield laid out before the hundreds of operatives about to participate in this little war. The battlefield contained both a mock town and a residential area as well as open fields and scattered woods.  The battlefield was actually modeled after games like H1Z1 and PlayersUnknown Battlegrounds (or PUB G as it was better known) and of course the most popular game of Fortnite. It was complete with weapons and ammunition scattered around, just in case you needed more than just what you could carry on your person. Especially when you considered just **how many** people would be participating in the battle.

As Genim stood at the edge of the battlefield, a voice Gen recognized as Aldyn MacColyn, one of the top linguistics agents SHIELD had, boomed across the field. “Welcome everyone to the 8th annual SHIELD Battle Royale! As always, the rules stand as follows. Number one – only legal, **SHIELD APPROVED** paintball weapons allowed. Use _anything_ else and you will be banned from any and **all** future competitions. Rule number two – the playing field is strictly outlined. Any kills made outside the zone will disqualify you.  Rule three – if and when you are shot, remember to press your signal button so we know who is disqualified and when. Remember, we will announce every person who is taken down from the final fifteen all the way down to the last person standing.” Aldyn continued to make announcements for a few more minutes before the final few words were given. “Now, you will have  five minutes to spread out before the battle begins. You may begin running… **NOW**!”

The scream brought a large jolt of adrenaline through Genim, making the teen rush into action. Within milliseconds the empath was moving into the mock town, avoiding the other competitors while looking for the perfect cover for himself. Somewhere that is easily defensible on the inside while also having a good window or two to snipe people off as they passed by. Just until the herd thinned out, allowing Genim to apply a wider strategy in order to, _hopefully_ , kick ass and win.

It was only a few minutes after the game began that the announcers voice boomed across the playing area, “In a shocking moment, the first to be eliminated this year is…the Avenger’s very own Black Widow, Natasha Romanov! For all of you betting on Iron Man, Tony Stark, to be the first one eliminated…better luck next year!” Genim could easily admit that he was completely surprised to hear someone had taken out Natasha, and especially so quick. She was one of the best after all, and Gen was curious to hear just how it’d happened and just _who_ had done it.

Gen heard footsteps within the house he was currently hiding out inside. Making a split second decision, the teen ducked behind the lazy boy recliner a few steps away with one of his suppressed pistols cocked and ready to fire at whoever it was, should they make the mistake of walking into his little temporary sanctuary. From where he was stealthily crouched, Genim had a damn good view without easily being seen.

Within a few moments the door began to slowly creak open with the barrel of a gun proceeding whoever was sneaking in. Genim held his breath as he calmly waiting for whoever it was to come far enough into the room to become a viable target. It didn’t take very long for the barrel to turn into an arm and the arm to turn into Agent Colin Laughlin who specializes in long-term undercover work. It was something Genim couldn’t imagine ever doing or living through. It made the teen deeply respect operatives like Agent Laughlin, but that respect in no way prevented Genim from double tapping Colin to the chest and giving the now “dead” man a cheeky little wave. One which Colin Laughlin returned with a good natured two finger salute that made Gen snort and stick out his tongue.

Once Genim was alone again, the teen switched over to his sniper with its 4x scope, watching out the two open windows which gave him the best view. The gun with its scope also allowed for him to carefully snipe off anyone coming in too close for comfort. Using that system, he managed to take out several people, including Darcy Lewis. Granted he may have overdone it a bit when he shot Agent Cooper four times in the weakest points of her armor, inflicting maximum pain. It wasn’t Genim’s fault that Cooper was a horrid, self-centered bitch who deserved every shot he gave her. She needed to learn to keep her grubby paws to her damn self before Gen did something worse than shoot her repeatedly in her weakest spots with a _paintball_ gun.

Genim was an empath who could feel the emotions of those around him but that did not mean that the young genius could not be one _hell_ of a vindictive son-of-a-bitch when he wanted to be. What can I say, some people just…feel like they deserve it?

After two hours or so, the announcer called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the _final fifteen_! Still standing, we have…Agent Cordell Walker, Agent Hadrian Malfoy, Agent Sharon Carter, Agent Ianto Harkness, Agent James Black, Agent Lilianna Evans, Head of Linguistics Toshiko Harper, Avenger Clint Barton-Coulson, Avengers Handler Phil Coulson, Avengers Associate Genim Coulson, Avengers Associate Wade Wilson, Avenger James “Bucky” Barnes, Avengers Associate Peter Parker, Head of Human Resources Andra Day, and, finally, Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs! Remember to keep it clean…or else.”

Genim snorted at that. It’s hard to keep it clean considering the sheer number of metahumans which still remained on the playing field who had enhanced senses in some way or another. Peter could sense danger, Genim could sense emotions, Wade and Bucky were technically genetically-enhanced super soldiers, and Phil was somewhat enhanced from when SHIELD brought the badass back to life. Plus, to be fair, Clinton Francis Barton-Coulson may be a plain old human being (as far as anyone knew, at least), but that did not mean that the Avenger couldn’t kick metahuman ass!

Things had started to get intense. Gen could feel the pressure building. He wanted so bad to win but against three of the best assassin’s in the world, Genim felt like he didn’t have a chance. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in himself. It was that he was a very pragmatic, realistic kind of person who knew the strengths of others. Especially those damn assholes with sniper experience.

Genim pulled out a matching pair of pistols as he decided it was time to leave the relative safety of his little house and start going on the offensive. He had people to hunt down, starting with whoever it was he could feel near him… They felt calm and calculating, which wasn’t particularly helpful in disconcerting the identity of the person.

Moving stealthily on the balls of his feet, glad he had the forethought to wear shoes which were designed after ballet shoes (though these were reinforced but they still moved silently).

It was on nimble toes that Genim left the house and headed towards where he could feel the person. Their feelings of anticipation and determination weren’t hard to follow. The feelings were familiar enough to know the person was someone he’d met more than once but it was not a _frequent_ thing. If it was something more frequent, he would be able to pinpoint their name within his memory. It was not long before the person slid into his view. It was Hadrian Malfoy, an agent well known for his ability to get not only into but also _out of_ anywhere. The man had even broken into Fort Knox, considered to be one of the most secure buildings in the world, simply because the man was _bored_. The dude didn’t even freaking _steal anything while he was there_. He just liked the challenge!

While Agent Malfoy was great at sneaking around, Genim excelled at tactics and subterfuge. Genim didn’t mind using underhanded tactics to get what he wanted either.

For around a full minute Genim simply observed Agent Malfoy, studying his movements. When his target was fully turned away, Genim threw a stone away from them both to attract Agent Malfoy’s attention. As soon as Malfoy’s dark haired head turned one way, Genim shot at him from the other.

Seconds after Agent Malfoy pressed his “Big Red Button” the announcer boomed that the man had been taken out. Only a few minutes later another announcement came that Sharon Carter had been taken out. That announcement had Genim frowning. The man was well aware of the obsession Peggy Carter’s niece had with Steve and how, despite knowing about Steve’s very serious relationship, she kept trying to seduce Steve. It seriously pissed Genim off, and he had wanted a touch of…revenge.

Sadly, Genim had no time to focus on those thoughts. If he didn’t keep his head in the game, he was liable to get himself shot and taken out of the game long before he had any chance to win. Instead, Genim took a deep, calming breath before silently continuing towards the mock town where the final stand usually took place. As he got closer to the goal of the mini-mart, there came another announcement came, this time telling of Lilianna Evans being taken out along with Toshiko Harper. He would bet that was one of the little assassins which took out Tosh. That girl was a certified Mensa genius and a total secret badass.

As soon as he entered the market, Gen watched Ianto Jones take out James Black with a precise, skilled shot. Before Jones could turn the gun on Genim, the teen popped the Agent twice in the chest. Despite thinking Ianto was a pretty awesome person, this was still war and Genim had no intention of losing.

Within a few minutes, Agent Andra Day and, shockingly enough, Bucky were both taken out. He figured it had to have been his tata who took out Bucky. There was no one else with enough skill to pull it off. They were officially down to the top 5, himself included.

Genim knew that he was currently at a huge disadvantage. With people like Peter and Wade still in the game Gen would have to be extremely cautious. He might be an empath but he wasn’t a superhero…or whatever Wade was. (An anti-hero, maybe?) Either way, he refused to use his empathic manipulation power to win a game. There were still days he would panic if he even _thought_ of doing such a horrid thing! That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t use his ability to **sense** emotions to find his victims though.

Before Genim got too caught up in such thoughts, he spotted his next victim. Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been a Marine for a number of years before being recruited by SHIELD. He had been a sniper since eighteen – bested only by the great Hawkeye and Winter. And even then, he wasn’t beaten by too large a margin, amazingly enough. Now, he taught marksmanship at the SHIELD Academy when not busy out on missions.

The problem with snipers was how easy it could be to use their focus against them. If you were silent enough, and stayed away from their line of sight, you could easily get the necessary shots in before they had any chance to retaliate.

As it was, Genim nearly got caught before he had a chance to get his shot off. While he was light on his feet, he could not control his shadow which nearly gave away his position. Thankfully, Gen got two shots off before Agent Gibbs could totally shift over onto his back and bring his gun up.

It wasn’t much longer after Genim took out Agent Gibbs out that the announcers voice was once again all around him. “Would you look at that, folks! It seems we have a family affair here as we enter the final three! Who will win? Will it be superhero Clinton Barton-Coulson, super competent super wrangler Phil Barton-Coulson, or their superhuman son Genim Barton-Coulson?! Watch and find out.”

Wow…well shit. Genim pulled his phone out of an inner pocket, dialing up the announcer as he tucked himself away to keep from being seen. It only took a few hissed words to get his point across, thankfully, so he wouldn’t end up giving his position away.

Only moments after hanging up, Aldyn MacColyn’s voice once again boomed. “Genim would like to remind his fathers’ that treating him like a child and going easy on him would be bad for their continued health. He can kick ass without any help, thank you very much.” The man paused for a moment before continuing. “And now back to our regularly scheduled program ladies and gents!”

Genim smirked. He was going to win alright, but gods damn it, he was going to win fair and square! Now, he just had to find his lovely fathers and hope his tata wouldn’t see it coming or he was _so fucking screwed_! The man was an Avenger **for a reason**. Despite what some people thought of him.

Before going on the hunt, Genim got himself divested of anything unnecessary, anything that would make excessive noise that would give away his position. Clint might be 80% deaf in both ears but his hearing aids were personally made by Anthony Edward Stark and were designed to do more than just amplify ambient sounds. When in ‘battle mode’ they would amplify any ‘life sounds’ such as breathing, footsteps, and movements. The asshole.

Going forward, Genim kept his movements slow and steady, his breathing was light and shallow – barely a sound came from the teen. While moving he kept his empathetic senses stretched out in search of any signs of life he could follow. It took the teen longer than he cared to admit to find the life signs he was looking for. Seemed like his papa Phil was hiding himself away inside the maze that was “Shield High”, a large school structure complete with desks, textbooks, a computer lab, and a whole lotta rooms and corners for cover. This was definitely going to make things all the more fun.

Opening the schools side door, Genim snuck inside. All the while, the Mission Impossible theme song hummed through his head. Genim loved the Mission Impossible series and used to watch them often with both Claudia and later Phil and Clint.

Genim began to walk around the corner when he heard the sound of a paintball gun going off. He had less than a second to pull back, watching the dark grey paint splatter onto the wall across from where his head had just been.

_Well **fuck**_! That was a close call. Closer than Genim liked to admit, to be honest. He liked to think he was better than that.

“Nice try old man but you missed,” Genim taunted, keeping close to the corner without exposing any part of himself to be shot at. And then, he simply waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. Sure the strategy was a wee bit childish but it was still a damn effective one.

Phil called back, “I won’t next time!”

Eyes closed, Genim whipped around the corner and fired repeatedly at the sound of his papa’s voice before the man even finished his sentence. This was something both of his fathers’ made sure he was trained in – the ability to fight without one or more of his senses accessible to him, be it sight, hearing, touch, taste, or smell. Not that the latter two were very helpful in a fight. (Though he still struggled to properly/accurately use a weapon when he was unable to actually _feel_ the damn thing in his hands.)

There were several dull thunks as the paintballs hit body mass as well as a few louder thunnks from the ones that sadly missed. Still! Some of them hit cloth-covered flesh, and that was all that mattered in the end.

“Yes!” Genim quietly cheered – a fist pump included.

There were only himself and tata Clint left! Could he actually win this year, against all odds? His tata was a badass sniper but he’d been trained by superhumans and superheroes alike. Maybe it could give him the necessary edge to win…

Genim gave a cheeky little wave to his papa before slinking off to find his tata and…hopefully…win. Moving through the halls of the school, Genim didn’t see, hear, or feel his tata so he obviously wasn’t skulking through here like his papa had been.

Sighing, the young man knew he would have to go outside which was a risky gamble. Holding up inside the school would sadly get him nowhere fast.

Opening a side door once again, Genim took the chance his tata was focused on one of the main doors rather than the side door. As soon as he was clear of the doorway…

**SPLAT**

_**SPLAT SPLAT** **SPLAT** _

A large, purple splotching of paint was suddenly staining the dark red of Genim’s outfit. Well fuck! The young man growled low under his breath as he slapped the button on his wrist to signal his being taken out and his tata’s winning.

While annoyed with the loss, Genim was not a sore loser. He was quite happy to have survived to see second place. It meant that he had beaten out some of the very best of the very best. It was hardly shocking he lost to the _world’s best marksman_ and a man who had raised him.

“Congratz tata!” Genim called out into the dead air.

Maybe he’d get it next year…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Suggestions? Anything you want to see in the coming chapters?? Let me know in the comments below!
> 
> All my love,  
> ~Alexander Corvus~


	10. Let Me Live In Your City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is in the air, my darlings.

Today was going to be the best day of his life since he had been dethawed. Before then, even. Steve knew that it would be. Everything was already set up and everyone who needed to know had already gotten told what would be going down and when. Now…he just had to wait until the time was right.

First thing first though, Steve had to survive breakfast up on the communal floor. It was a lot like going to war. Especially with the way you oft had to fight for your food—between all the supernatural and superhuman appetites, it was amazing no one had ended up on the medical floor for serious trauma-as of yet, at least.

A common scene at the long mahogany table involved loud laughing, sharp objects coming dangerously close to causing serious harm, Genim and Loki cheating a wee bit to get what they want using their magic, a lot of boulsterous talking, and the occasional food fight or two. No meal on the communal floor was complete without someone throwing something, someone stealing something, and someone being stabbed- _hopefully_ with nothing more dangerous than a fork but, well, they were all a bunch of dangerous beings.

Today was definitely one of the calmer days in the Avengers Tower (for now, at least). Most of the people living in the tower were already seated around the table. For breakfast this morning, they appeared to be having pancakes and waffles (in strawberry, blueberry, chocolate chip, mixed berry, and plain), French toast, fresh fruit, sausage links, several juices, and coffee—all in quantities that would make a breakfast buffet at a large restaurant blush. They spend more money in two weeks on food than most families of four would spend in a single year.

Steve took his normal seat on one end of the table with Genim on his left as Tony ‘sat’ at the other end of the table with Loki on his left.

“Good morning, beloved,” Steve murmured, giving his still more than half asleep lover who was, currently, curled protectively around his extra-large cup of coffee as though it held all the secrets of the universe. And who knows, maybe for him it did.

Genim turned his head towards Steve, only seemingly able to blink bleerily, making a kissing motion towards Steve before he went back to staring into his coffee. The sight made Steve’s fingers itch to sketch him, as they often did when he saw Genim like this.

From the first time Steve had laid eyes on Genim all those years ago, he became Steve’s number one source of inspiration in his art. After a bit of time, Genim became what he fought for every time he would suit up and head out with the other Avengers to fight whatever idiot actually decided **_World Domination_** was a good idea. I mean really! The paperwork alone would be a nightmare! Steve had a feeling that was about all that kept Tony from turning into a supervillain most days. The man was practically allergic to paperwork (just ask Pepper). Plus, he would actually have to _deal_ with other people, and no matter  how great an actor Tony Stark was, he still _hated_ dealing with anyone outside of their circle with a fiery burning passion.

Steve spent the majority of the afternoon working his punching bags over to distract himself from what he would be doing that evening. Thankfully, Genim had been easily persuaded to spend the afternoon shopping with Loki and Tony for the toys and other items they would be giving away later in the month to families who could not afford to purchase the gifts themselves. Many of the toys would be educational and meant to encourage a thirst for knowledge and cultivate a love of things like science, art, music, and literature. It was a cause many of the Avengers and co. held dearly in their hearts. People like Steve, Bucky, Genim, and Isaac grew up without any sort of luxuries. Whether it was because of abuse, or simply a product of the time they grew up in, it was something they held dearly. Not everyone could be princes or billionaires after all.

Even with their backgrounds in wealth, Tony and Loki could empathize with those who’d grown up less fortunate. That was the reason for starting Forever Hopeful, an offshoot of the Maria Stark foundation which focused on giving those without access to the better things in life a chance. Their 2nd annual fundraiser ball and silent auction would soon be approaching as well. It would be amazing to go to. Steve could already tell.

Before Steve even realized it, it was 6 o’clock and time to get into his place before Genim was guided to the start at exactly 6:10. Thankfully, it only took Steve 9 minutes to freshen up, change, and get where he needed to be.

While the soldier may have _looked_ calm on the outside, inside his heart was beating a steady staccato against his ribcage. Steve knew that, thanks to Dr. Erskine’s miracle serum, he’d never have to worry about having a heart attack again but…fuck! He was pretty sure this was what one felt like! Still, it would be well worth it in the end. It always was when it came to Genim.

Steve was broken out of his quiet contemplation when Jarvis started playing the opening lines of Westlife’s “I Wanna Grow Old With You” which meant that Genim was at the beginning, ready to start. Steve brought the mic up, prepared for when he was to begin.

Genim was feeling very confused at the moment. After an amazing day out with his two favorite uncles (since Phil and Clint were his fathers _legally_ now), Loki had directed the young man off to floor 64—a floor Gen had thought was completely void of anything and under construction. Boy was he in for one _hell_ of a shock.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, the opening strains of a somewhat familiar song began. And then a **_very_** familiar voice joined in.

_Another day_

_Without your smile_

_Another day just passes by_

Genim’s cinnamon eyes blew wide in shock. It was a rare thing indeed for Steve to sing. Where Genim just needed a half decent beat to belt one out, Steve was a much more private person who rarely shared what he could do. Especially when it came to his vocal abilities.

It took the young man another moment of stunned awe to realize what was right in front of him. Red yarn started out as two separate strands for a few feet before coming together to make just one. All along the strands hung photographs and what looked like hand-written messages full of colorful words.

Turning his head to the right to see the beginning of the first red strand, Genim gasped. Suspended there was the most beautiful photo of his mother in his humble opinion. There she stood, hands pressed on either side of her nine-month swollen stomach, the happiest of grins overtaking her face. Claudia’s twin brother captured the perfect moment only days before Genim Celestye Coulson (or Stanislaw Celestye Stilinski as he’d been named) had joined the world. A copy of the photo hung proudly in the living room of his and Steve’s suite.

 

_But now I know_

_How much it means_

_For you to stay_

_Right here with me_

Next, Genim’s head swivled to the left. In an instant, he knew exactly who he was seeing despite having never met them. The photo was obviously decades old, colored with time, and something rare for its era. Standing alone outside an older apartment building over in Brooklyn was an obviously pregnant woman standing much like Claudia had been in her photo. The only true differences were the clothing styles they wore, and the woman’s light blonde hair compared to Claudia’s dark brown. This was Sarah Jane Rogers with a Stevie-bun cooking away in her oven.

Genim looked to the next item on the soft red strands. This time it was a written note. On ivory paper with a dark blue ink the words “July 4, 1912 – Steven Grant Rogers has joined the world!” were written in, surprisingly enough, Bucky’s amazingly elegant scrawl. Across the way, hanging from the darker red strand, a similar card dangled with the words written out by Clint’s loving, if messy, hand stating his date of birth.

 

_The time we spend apart will make our love grow stronger_

_But it hurts so bad I can’t take it any longer_

Genim continued his journey down the timeline of their lives apart. All the way up until the two strands started to twist into one. There, the story began to change – starting with a photograph from the first day that they had met. It had been only a few weeks after the invasion had occurred. Back when Steve and Tony were as caustic as acid most days. The city, even the tower, was still being rebuilt. The picture was one which Jarvis had obviously taken. It showed a group of dusty, dirty people all collapsed around the penthouse’s living room in obvious exhaustion. They had all just spent several hours helping to rebuild the city back to its former glory. And there in the center sat Steve and Genim leaning against each other. The younger male was practically asleep on the soldier’s shoulder while the original Disney version of Beauty and the Beast played on in the background. Rather than shove off the teen he’d met only hours before, Steve had wrapped an arm gently around Genim and positioned him to lay his head on Steve’s much softer pecs.

 

_I wanna grow old with you_

_I wanna die lying in your arms_

Not far down from their first meeting hung one of the longer handwritten moments in time. This one was written by Steve himself. “Genim and I went out to Broadway to see a musical called RENT. It was during the scene of Angel’s funeral that I realized just how beautiful this young man was when he cried. Most people are ugly criers, but not Genim. He cried so gently but sincerely as he curled into my side. I didn’t want that moment to ever end.”

Those words made the teen blush deeply. Steve was an expert on getting Genim to do just that. No one could make him blush like Steve could. He remembered that night well. He knew that night had been an emotional one for the both of them. Whilst Genim grew up knowing about the AIDS epidemic of the 80s and 90s, Steve had been under ice at the time. It was an eye-opening experience for Steve to realize just how many people had died from the AIDS/HIV epidemic during his little 70-year jaunt as Rip van Winkle under the ice. That night had caused Steve to join Broadway Cares, a charitable organization which helps men, women and children across the country and across the street receive lifesaving medications, health care, nutritious meals, counseling and emergency financial assistance. Since Broadway was where he learned about the problem, Broadway was where his heart went to. Steve – like many of the team – was a member of many charitable organizations with Wounded Warriors on top of the soldier’s list but Broadway Cares was a strong second.

 

_I wanna grow old with you_

_I wanna be looking in your eyes_

Genim continued his journey through some of the most significant moments of their history together. The next memory to fully catch his attention was one that made him give a bit of a laugh. The photograph was of himself and Steve alone in the living room of what was now _their_ floor. Both of them were wearing nothing but thin, comfortable sleep pants. Genim’s were green and bronze with the Slytherin house crest on the outside of his left thigh and the Ravenclaw house crest on the outside of his right thigh. Steve’s were yellow with pink donuts, sprinkles included – a gag gift from Tony after the first time Steve had ever watched an episode of The Simpsons. It was because Steve said that Tony reminded him of Bart that the man had even bought them though.

In this particular photograph, the pair each had a hairbrush they were using as their own stand-in microphones. Even in the stand still image it was obvious the duo were pulling off some particularly crazy dance moves as they sang along to I Had A Dream from the musical Tangled which was playing on the large flatscreen in front of them, just off camera.

That night had been a wonderful one full of laughter that Genim doubted he would ever be able to forget.

 

_I wanna be there for you_

_Sharing in everything you do_

_I wanna grow old with you_

Next was another photograph, this time with Clint and Bucky joining them. The group was in front of the television on the communal floor. They each held a controller for the game of Mario Party they were playing on the Wii. The photo had caught the moment in which Genim had launched himself at Steve because the freaking man-out-of-time had just evilly stolen two of his stars at once! Despite having come from an era where Pong wasn’t even a twinkle in it’s creators eye, both Steven and James were pretty damn amazing at video games. Hell, Bucky kept _kicking everyone’s ass_ in Fortnite,  and he’d kicked the ass of NoahJ456(or NoahJAFK as his second channel was known). NoahJ, along with MrDalekJD were his two favorite YouTube gamers (who primarily played Call of Duty zombies), and that Bucky had actually got to not only play with one of them but also _beat him_ one on one made Gen **so very jealous**.

 

_A thousand miles between us now_

_It causes me to wonder how_

_Our love tonight remains so strong_

_It makes our risk right all along_

Standing halfway through the story of their love, Genim read the note written in dark purple ink on a pale lilac paper. The words were enough to cause his eyes to mist over. “I think it was on my mission to Glasgow with Agents Watney and Beck chasing down an international arms dealer Jamie Kilkarney that I realized just how hard and fast I was falling for him. Being so far away and being unable to speak to him even through a text or e-mail for nearly a month made me realize just how much you’d come to mean to me.”

 

_The time we spend apart will make our love grow stronger_

_But it hurts so bad I can’t take it any longer_

Genim was quickly coming to the end of the beautifully twisted strands. The next note, on black cardstock with a white ink, made him snort loudly. “I remember the first day you introduced me to Doctor Who and how it became our thing. The way you drooled over a certain Captain Jack Harkness made me so jealous! But don’t worry…I was drooling over him too.”

Doctor Who had been a show which Claudia Coulson-Stilinski had introduced her son to. One which the pair would watch every Saturday night – practically religiously. Genim didn’t have a teddy bear when he was younger. He had a stuffed white adipose. When he started falling for Steve, Genim wanted to share that love of the doctor and his companions with the displaced soldier. And really, who wouldn’t drool over Captain Jack Harkness (and his beautiful Welsh love, Ianto Jones)! _His_ Captain is even sexier though.

 

_I wanna grow old with you_

_I wanna die lying in your arms_

_I wanna grow old with you_

_I wanna be looking in your eyes_

Getting closer and closer to where the strands ended, Genim next came across a photograph which made his eyes mist even more. The photograph was from the day they had went to Coney Island together for the first time. It was the first time Genim had went without his mother, and it was the first time Steve had went without Bucky. In the picture they were seated side-by-side on a bench in front of the Coney Island Cyclone as they at Feltman’s hot dogs. They were leaning on each other, a faraway look in both of their eyes as they thought upon days long since passed.

 

_I wanna be there for you_

_Sharing in everything you do_

_I wanna grow old with you_

Genim looked on down the line, seeing that there were only four stops left to go. Taking two steps forward, Genim read the dark red card that had soft blue writing inscribed upon it.

“Your birthday is a day I don’t believe I will ever be able to forget. When I got you permission to own a hedgehog in New York, I got so very excited. Finding Sir Percival Quill Coulson-Rogers, it felt like one of the luckiest days. Percival was the perfect gift and the perfect way to start our relationship.”

The teen blushed softly. That night had been one full of surprises, all of them wonderful. The start of their relationship was something that Genim felt was fairytale like—and not something the Grimm brothers would’ve written, either.

 

_Things can come and go I know but_

_Baby I believe_

_Something’s burning strong between us_

_Makes it clear to me_

There was something to be said for today’s technology obsessed age, Genim had to admit, as he saw the next photograph that had been taken a few weeks previously. In it, Genim was dressed up as Rowan standing in front of Steve with one hand holding the silver Astatic microphone with the other way outstretched towards his lover, holding Steve’s hand tightly as Genim sang him _The Book of Love_. That night had been amazing. Even moreso when they’d gotten home and Genim had gotten to give Stevie that sexy little private performance.

 

_I wanna grow old with you_

_I wanna die lying in your arms_

The second to last item on the timeline of their lives was taken only days earlier. It was a group shot with the top 20 people left standing from the games with Genim getting a piggyback ride on Steve’s back. Genim was still in his Assassin’s Creed inspired outfit while Steve wore his dark Commander Rogers/Captain America stealth suit. Together the pair looked both cute and kickass at the same time.

 

_I wanna grow old with you_

_I wanna be looking in your eyes_

Genim had finally reached the end of the line. This card was a dark ivory with a glittering gold embossed upon it to form the words, “The day I met you, everything changed. You are my sun, my moon, and my stars. You give me the strength I need to go out and face the horrors I see every time I put on the mantle of Captain America and go outside to face the evils of the world like Victor von Doom. At the end of the day, you are the only one I can envision spending my forever with. I love you, my darling Genim Celestyne Coulson. Open the door…I’m waiting for you.”

 

_I wanna be there for you_

_Sharing in everything you do_

_I wanna grow old with you_

Tears slowly started winding their way down the young man’s cheeks. Reaching out with trembling hand toward the knob, the young man had to wonder just what awaited him on the other side of the door. Of course, he knew what he hoped and wished to be there waiting for him.

Only one way to find out though…

With a careful twist of his wrist, Genim slowly started to push the door open. The first thing to capture Genim’s attention were the hundreds of photographs dangling from varying lengths of multicolored string. The photos were much like those behind him, but they weren’t just the big moments. It was full of all those seemingly innocuous little moments as well, like pictures of them watching Inside Out, the Lego Movie, and the Martian. Pictures of them cuddling, kissing, spending time together with friends and with family. There were even a couple more _intimate_ moments included like when Genim did his little lap dance. Seeing that up there made Genim blush lightly. A blush that only deepened when his eyes reached the focal point of the room.

There was Steve, dressed to kill in a perfectly tailored Armani suit, down on one knee with a fairly obviously ring-box shaped black square resting atop his upturned palm. When Steve knew Genim had noticed him, he sang, “I wanna be there for you, sharing in everything you do. I wanna grow old with you,” softly once again – this time acoustically, without the accompanying music.

Crying softly, Genim approached Steve slowly, heart stammering away in his chest. As Gen approached, Steve began to speak with a voice that shook with his strong emotions. “Genim Celestyn Coulson, you are the bright moon illuminating my path through the darkest of nights. I want to spend forever with you.” Steve placed the microphone down on the ground next to him in order to crack open the ring box to reveal a sparkling tiara-style white gold ring with vintage-style scrollwork. It had to be worth a few thousand dollars, at least. “Will you be my forever? Marry me?”

Genim couldn’t speak. He just kept nodding as his hands covered his mouth, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. It was happening. It was really happening! “Yes!” the younger man nearly shouted as he finally found his voice once again.

As the soldier stood, he pulled the ring out of its box to present to Genim. Rather than just placing it on Genim’s finger though, Steve showed him the words carefully inscribed inside. The inscription read ‘TOGETHER FOREVER THROUGH TIME AND SPACE’. He knew exactly what those words were associated with—their favorite television show which they watched together _at least_ once a week when they both were home.

The first time Genim and Steve had watched Doctor Who after officially becoming a couple, Steve – with his arms wrapped around Genim – has whispered, “You and me, beautiful, we’ll be together forever through time and space. I’m never going to let you go,” and then kissed his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. This chapter was totally inspired by the song Steve is singing in it and the story of the red string of fate.
> 
> Love you guys always!


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